By firelight we warm our faces,
Holding sticks the fire embraces,
We enjoy widen-open spaces
as the day dies down.
Dirty feet and dirty clothes,
Sooty hands by ember glows,
Isn't that the way it goes
When camping thing turn brown?
We made new friends and played at spy
And watched some bugs go crawling by.
Tomorrow we'll pack up and sigh
As we head back to town.
Pack the clothes and stow the goods
Make sure to not burn down the woods
Viewing all the neighborhoods
Around the Puget Sound.
"Will we go there again next year?"
"i don't know. Perhaps, my dear."
I hope the skies will all be clear
And not be full of clouds.
Until next year we'll wait and plan,
Remembering who and what and when.
New memories we'll make again
To camp again we're bound.