Camping in Cornwall

A Poem by Craig Thomas

Tents are magic,
Camping is great
When the weather is clement
And the kids sleep in late.

When the kit is prepared
And you're well stocked with wine,
It's fair to say
that camping is fine

But things feel different,
When you've not got the kit
When the rain beats hard
And you tent absorbs it

When the flash flood delivers
A stream across your floor
And your plastic coffee cup
Sails out of the door

When your cooker provides
More light that heat
Then making a brew
Is no mean feat

When your lilo is punctured
And deflates whilst you snore
Leaving imprints of stones
As you sink to the floor

So what am I saying
What's the point here
I guess it's that like anything
It's better with good gear

So when I get back
Enough is enough
I'm shopping online
And getting good stuff

A much bigger tent
Fridge, port-a-loo
Wardrobe, small toaster
Microwave too

I'm buying a trailer
to stick it all in
And then I'll be set
For comfy camping

And next time we go
We'll be seasoned and hardened
And will definitely stay
Further afield than our garden