The Happy Campers by Elizabeth Henry

illustration: Delhine Jones

 A furtive clearing by the rocks

Will be your wildest dream.

Together with a campfire

And an easy going stream.

 

A site of contemplation,

Where serenity is found.

A little shelter by the sea,

Where infants splash around.

 

You’ll hear the pulse of tapping

As you start to plot and pitch,

Creating an Arcadia

To charm and to bewitch.

 

You’ll dangle pastel garlands

And a lantern from the trees.

And then you’ll hang a hammock

Midst the butterflies and bees.

 

You’ll dread the clout of footballs,

As the children frisk and play,

Disrupting your tranquillity

With din and disarray.

 

And later you will giggle,

As the gin begins to flow.

(You’ll suffer in the morning

When the cockerel starts to crow.)

 

You’ll loathe the frenzied bustle

Of the early bathroom rush.

You’ll wish you’d risen early

To avoid the crazy rush.

 

But when the week is over

And equipment’s stored away,

You’ll feel refreshed and livened by

Your camping holiday.