Tenting at Little Dyke Lake

Nighttime is creepy-crawler time
where fireflies blink eerily
as ghostly lanterns
of welcome

the lakeshore provides silence for
a deer, this sacred realm where bullfrogs
burp serenades
across the calm

God’s will is for those trout to
nudge against the lake surface
and to hear a loon's lingering call.

Now draped in a warm blanket by
the campfire embers my son
dreams, lights up the sky

goodnight prayers now done
he rests in comfort
against my arm, this child
a gift from my heavenly Father

and I am His little boy too.

© Richard L. Provencher