Campfire
We looked forward to our campfire
Each time we camped back then
We gathered around every one
And enjoyed our time their spent
We split the wood with axes
And a wedge of perfect size
It was a rite of passage
That the young men all survived
I can still smell the oak
That rose from the site
With the smoke in our clothes
And watering our eyes
We roasted many weenies
And cooked a hearty stew
It warmed us deep inside
As few things really do
We left our campfire doused
And were thankful for our time
We respected all about
With the next guy there in mind
- Author: w c ( Offline)
- Published: November 14th, 2017 09:22
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
Comments5
A nice memory. I love camping. It seems to cleanse the soul.With grown up children now it’s just my wife and I who go.A lovely write.
Thanks Drewp! Camping really is a family thing. It is a bit of quality time experienced by many.
Lovely write wc.
Thanks orchidee!
Simply wonderful.
Thanks Shadowbox! I appreciate your comment.
I love camping. You painted a good picture of that time.
Thanks L! I'm honored you enjoyed the poem.
Some of my favorite memories of living on the farm, are of camping in the back woods. Great write
Thanks Tony! Many have enjoyed the thrill of camping. It's definitely worth the try.
Welcome
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