A tent went up on the grass:

just room for a boy and his brother,

who waited for day to pass -

kept wishing that day would pass

as they'd never wished of another.

At last they got their wish.

Darkness fell and off they went

feeling quite daredevilish -

yes, really daredevilish -

to spend a night in that tent.

Night is dizzy and deep;

the wall of a tent is thin;

they were almost too scared to sleep,

but whispered each other to sleep

as stars and ghosts listened in.

And the tent flew through the night

on the back of the turning world,

which brought them home all right,

them and the tent, still upright

and now lavishly dew-pearled.