Oh, the return of the Back Packer
Backpacking into the suns glow...
Just where to look for that get up and go...
Stuck here in this weekend’s scenario.
The packing list said,...umm.... I don’t give a toss
I need the hair dryer, shaver, hair straighter, lip-gloss...
And don’t forget too dental floss.
Mum doesn't know what to pack,
I’ll sneak in one more little snack.
Recons being 'outdoorsy' should dress in like a hessian sack!
Fashion no 1
I'm not going to come undone.
But where is the spare three socket plug when my blow dryer needs an amp
To plug in my looking good make up lamp.
My face, my hair my whole attire, why I look like a vamp
Oh no, here’s the sun
The bed yet to be made and I’m far from done.
On the camp fashion scarecrow I’m number one.
The sleeping bag to be shaken,
And if I’m mistaken
My fizzy drink bottles some ones taken.
I don’t think I need worry
Homeward bound I’ll hurry
By the end of next week only mum will be sorry
The mess on my bed, washing on my floor,
The back pack thrown behind the door,
Mum will want the peace and space so off I’ll go to camp once more.
Hiding well somewhere still on my bedroom floor
That piece of paper was only fit to ignore.
Even though the camp packing list still say’s: ‘no pressure sprays, radio,
Phone or mp4’
Wonder why my shoulder, neck back and legs are still so sore.
Attempt at poetry by Susan Connor
| Encouraged to be written by Clear Vision |
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