On the first night of summer camp
I was so lonely, my teddy heard me weep.
On the second night of summer camp
Crickets were so noisy, I couldn't sleep.
On the third night of summer camp
The rain kept me awake.
On the fourth night of summer camp
I fell into the lake.
On the fifth night of summer camp
I went swimming with an inner-tube tire.
On the sixth night of summer camp
I roasted marshmallows around the campfire.
On the seventh night of summer camp
Mom and Dad came to take me away.
I was having so much fun, I wanted to stay.
This is another counting poem. Have you ever gone to summer camp? What kinds of things did you do at camp? Did you have an Indian name? Can you write your own poem about camp today? Have fun and avoid the poison ivy.
Whimsey is in the heart of every children's poet.
Joy,
ReplyDeleteI never attended camp as a child, although I was a youth camp counselor at day camp on a private lake. I remember being afraid to touch bottom. Who knew what was there. Uugh!
Linda, Here is an adventure for you. The year we lived in England we arrived a week before we could get into our rental house, so we rented a long boat and went along the Trent and Mercy River canals. To make the locks work we were given a special wrench. I kept the wrench on a stiool by the back of our boat so it would be handy when we needed it to open or close a lock. One afternoon the boys were racing along the back of the boat and they knocked the stool over. The wrench spilled into the canal. We needed that wrench to make our way to the next spot where we could tie up for the night. Thank goodness the canals aren't very deep (it was only about shoulder deep) but I didn't want to put my face in the dirty, murky water, so I felt along the bottom of the canal with my feet in the mush until I felt the hard metal of the wrench. I still tell the boys that they owe me for that.
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