Following on from yesterday's posting and as a means of underlining just how much I'm looking forward to the camping weekend about to begin, I've quickly scribbled a short poem.
It's called I Hate Camping and I hope it strikes a chord with those of a like mind.
*****
I HATE CAMPING
by Barry Richard White (Aged 37 1/4)
I hate camping
I really do
It’s always raining
When you need the loo
It’s sometimes windy
And it’s often cold
Which is not much fun
When you’re getting old
I hate camping
Even the thought
Despite the flash tent
That Vanessa bought
Jamie’s coming
Which should make me bright
But so is Dave
And he talks shite
I hate camping
But it must be done
‘Cos Vanessa said so
And her mum
So I’ve packed my clothes
And I’ve packed my beer
For come 5 o’clock
I’ll not be here
I’ll be in my tent
With my wife and son
Soaking wet
And changing his bum
Yes, I hate camping
But it’s once a year
And come Sunday teatime
I’ll be full of cheer
So between now and then
I’ll do my best
To be a happy camper
And have a rest
I really do
It’s always raining
When you need the loo
It’s sometimes windy
And it’s often cold
Which is not much fun
When you’re getting old
I hate camping
Even the thought
Despite the flash tent
That Vanessa bought
Jamie’s coming
Which should make me bright
But so is Dave
And he talks shite
I hate camping
But it must be done
‘Cos Vanessa said so
And her mum
So I’ve packed my clothes
And I’ve packed my beer
For come 5 o’clock
I’ll not be here
I’ll be in my tent
With my wife and son
Soaking wet
And changing his bum
Yes, I hate camping
But it’s once a year
And come Sunday teatime
I’ll be full of cheer
So between now and then
I’ll do my best
To be a happy camper
And have a rest
But I still hate camping
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