Welcome to My Poetry Site-ALL SEASONS VERSE
1,281,131 poems read
When the Campfire goes Out
It was a way to keep the wolves at bay.
The Campfire begins to rage, the flame
Snaps as a sprinkle of rain began to tap!
I learned something that night of the
Fire's shield, how it made a safe hold
Appeal and made dangers yield.
In the outline of the woods, a Grandfather
Racoon stood near. Yet, Keeping his distance
Making his presence so clear.
I did not sense any fear. I watched him for the
Longest time but my eyes grew heavy so I
Bedded down in the back seat of our Chevy.
All coolers were sealed, fish bait closed in plastic
Containers, tidy on the picnic table, now I was drifting
Off to sleep while I was able.
There were a crash, boom, and bang!!!
I sat up and hit my head, still semi-dark the fire was out,
All that burns are the red coals safe in the firing fire-bowl!
I looked at a primary disaster, the campsite was a shambles.
Pop cans, water bottles, and potato peels, fishing gear, and
Unraveled reels, peanut butter seals all the garbage on display.
A collection of trash for a few days.
As I approached the picnic table the coolers were tipped upside down,
A family of raccoons was sitting at the table with the fish bait
Containers, scooping in them as though their paws were spoons,
Eating side by side, as Grandpa Racoon watched his family with pride.
Suddenly the Big Grandfather raccoon sat up and pushed out his chest,
And he loudly chattered, If I didn't know better I would say he just cusses
In his threatening cantankerous fusses.
There are notable manners for this wilderness family, they made sounds
Like those bait, worms were a delectable treat they had a humdrum yum yum
Grunt, their demeanor so blunt.
What's this, I didn't go any closer, they seen me and continued to dine,
Then the family of raccoons jumped down and ran for the pines!
However, the Grandpa kicked a can around then dropped kick it from
The ground, by the first light of dawn they slipped out of sight.
I still had the feeling you see, that they were hidden and laughing at me!
So what a mess, but I learned, if I can't keep the flame at a burn, then
Don't leave anything that creatures will handle, avoid waking up to
A campsite scandal.
It was a way to keep the wolves at bay.
The Campfire begins to rage, the flame
Snaps as a sprinkle of rain began to tap!
I learned something that night of the
Fire's shield, how it made a safe hold
Appeal and made dangers yield.
In the outline of the woods, a Grandfather
Racoon stood near. Yet, Keeping his distance
Making his presence so clear.
I did not sense any fear. I watched him for the
Longest time but my eyes grew heavy so I
Bedded down in the back seat of our Chevy.
All coolers were sealed, fish bait closed in plastic
Containers, tidy on the picnic table, now I was drifting
Off to sleep while I was able.
There were a crash, boom, and bang!!!
I sat up and hit my head, still semi-dark the fire was out,
All that burns are the red coals safe in the firing fire-bowl!
I looked at a primary disaster, the campsite was a shambles.
Pop cans, water bottles, and potato peels, fishing gear, and
Unraveled reels, peanut butter seals all the garbage on display.
A collection of trash for a few days.
As I approached the picnic table the coolers were tipped upside down,
A family of raccoons was sitting at the table with the fish bait
Containers, scooping in them as though their paws were spoons,
Eating side by side, as Grandpa Racoon watched his family with pride.
Suddenly the Big Grandfather raccoon sat up and pushed out his chest,
And he loudly chattered, If I didn't know better I would say he just cusses
In his threatening cantankerous fusses.
There are notable manners for this wilderness family, they made sounds
Like those bait, worms were a delectable treat they had a humdrum yum yum
Grunt, their demeanor so blunt.
What's this, I didn't go any closer, they seen me and continued to dine,
Then the family of raccoons jumped down and ran for the pines!
However, the Grandpa kicked a can around then dropped kick it from
The ground, by the first light of dawn they slipped out of sight.
I still had the feeling you see, that they were hidden and laughing at me!
So what a mess, but I learned, if I can't keep the flame at a burn, then
Don't leave anything that creatures will handle, avoid waking up to
A campsite scandal.
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
When the Campfire goes Out
When the Campfire goes Out