ramblings and things

1,227,299 poems read

Rough Camping


Rain thumping down

Bouncing off the tent side

Where me and Tim and Luke

Are warm and dry inside.

We love our little trips

Though not a long stay

We are only here for 

Three or four days


We don’t camp in luxury.

We dont have air beds,

Just sleeping bags

And ground for our heads.

Just a little ridge tent

Not very high or wide

Just enough room really

To fit snugly inside.


We dont wash very often,

Just the odd quick cat lick:

We stuff ourselves on chips

And one of them was sick. 

We stroll through the woods

Amazed at what we see

Such wonderful sights 

For Tim and Luke and me.

There are elephants and tigers

And a small wolf pack

And young Luke insists

He’s found a rhino’s track,

There In Flamingoland 

Camped in the park

Hearing the lions roar

At the approaching dark.


Home early on the last day

To shower and get clean

Before Mummy comes home

To asks us how we’ve been.

Living in a tent

Just wasn’t mummy’s style

And I think she quite liked

Being home alone for a while.


I so loved our camping days

So very quickly gone

Now the boys have grown

And both of them moved on.

We all still remember rain

Bouncing off the tent side

And the three of us huddled

Warm and dry inside.

Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Rough Camping