Saturday, July 08, 2006

Camping


Flames rising higher in the sky,
Not a wisp of wind seems to go by,
Yellow, orange, red,
Warming my cold head.

A stock of wood piled up by the tent,
All crooked and bent,
We use that wood,
To heat up our food.

Our tent is big,
To set it up, we had to dig,
Sleeping bags laid out on the floor,
The flap resembles a door.

A big bear, hiding in the tree,
Watching the food in glee,
Ready to pounce, awaiting its chance,
It is the timing the bear wants to enhance.

I look up, see the bear,
Quickly close up the food with great care,
With an angry growl, the bear runs away,
What an exciting day!

1 comment:

funnygrape said...

Hey, I want to keep seeing your poems. They make your blog interesting, and your blog is really funny.