GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – SCAVENGER HUNT
July 21 – Today’s camp activity is a scavenger hunt or sorts. A camp wordle to keep you occupied for a bit this morning/afternoon/evening… Use some or all but fit these words into you poem. We’ve been getting some marvelous poems this month. Let’s finish up strong!
STAYING ON THE TRAIL
July 19 – AMPHIBIANS, ARACHNIDS AND REPTILIANS
July 16 – THE LAKE : OTTAVA RIMA (FORM)
* Did anyone notice I re-invented camp as caqmp?
ENOUGH!
This camp has few facilities—
no Johnnies-on-the-Spot—
we build with stones instead of logs;
a modern camp it’s not.
Here, everything is primitive:
we drink from leaf canteens
and every season we come here
we have to dig latrines,
and every time we hear a sign
of nature on the trail—
a bear’s deep roar, coyote’s howl—
we feel like we’re in jail,
We know that we must soon escape
this rusticated hell
and take canoes and lanterns to
the nearest warm hotel.
copyright 2014, William Preston
I find it intriguing…the idea of being jailed in the wide bars of a forested hell. I could easily see it feeling that way after a while…long-term living in the woods wouldn’t be easy, that’s for sure. Great write, William!
Oh yes!
ESCAPE
Vacation time:
Follow nature’s trail.
Search high and low for signs
of bear and howling wolves
till sun dims to pale
and night birds chime.
#
This is a concise rhyming poem, Sal…I enjoyed it very much!
Same here.
Very nice poem, Sal.
Summer Camp
With one small suitcase and my backpack
The new lantern my grandfather gave me
And a canteen filled with sweet well water
It was time to leave my family behind
And escape to my new home in the woods
My grandparents needed a vacation from me
I can’t wait to get in the canoe with Jon
Pay him back for pushing me into the water
Then I’ll take a couple newbies Skipe hunting
And see if they can beat the time I took
To make it back to the camp in the dark
Oh, what fun it’s going to be this year
And there’s the sign to Camp Magnificent
Back to nature where bear and deer roam
Hiking the trails, skipping stones
Sitting on a log at night gazing at the stars
And listening to the wolves howl at the moon
This is my hotel for the next two weeks
© 2014 Earl Parsons
I love all the life that rises from line to line, Earl. nicely wordled!
I love this, even “Camp Magnificent.”
Family Vacation
We’ll all explore nature outdoors,
Escape this urban jail.
No bargain hunting at the mall.
We’ll hike the lakeside trail.
Yes, we’ll beware, of the black bear.
We’ll watch for signs of critters there,
A howl, some scat or print.
We’ll glide along in sleek canoes.
The view’s magnificent.
Lanterns at night, to give some light.
The family will all have fun
In rivers and the lakes.
They’ll fill canteens and play and swim,
Skip stones and watch for snakes.
Nix PlayStation, this vacation.
We’ll sleep under the moon and stars,
while wind blows through our tent.
We’ll save the fee for hotel stay
Or a log home’s high rent.
The group’s retort? We choose resort!
I love the image of the sleek canoes…lantern light reflection on the water. Wordled well!
Wordled? is that a combination of “word” and “hurdled?” This was fun to read.
I love that! Word-hurdled!!
Nicely done, Connie!
Pingback: Landscape – in Dots and Dabs | Metaphors and Smiles
Landscape – in Dots and Dabs
Follow star-lit stones homeward,
Nature’s trail lanterns shine magnificently
and the moon has signed her shifting signature.
Slivers of her have escaped the container of sphere
as a canteen poured – her golden-glowing aura spills;
she’s written intricately on the surface of sea, lake and pond.
Water embraces a vacation from the scorch of direct rays
it’s a temporary trade – heated day for chill of night,
pervasive sunlight persists still in a spray of cooling-splinters.
A midnight hunting owl shakes loose the silence of sleeping things
its broad wings swoop and overlay the land with a crisp traveling-outline,
it flies above a turtle family’s hotel – a large log in the shadows of shore.
Dimly lit trunk transforms – bears the mark of Monet.
Tree fallen becomes an impressionistic painting,
a dark stippled-streak of a portrait – canoe in waiting.
Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014
I employed them all with one exception – I turned howl into owl. 🙂
Thank you for this fun wordle, Walt!!
This reads like Gaia herself wrote it. Beautiful.
This thrills me no end, William, thank you!! 🙂
Beautifully Monet, Hannah.
Thank you so much, Sara!! 🙂
Vacation– ( haikus)
Signs of homes around
5 star hotels made of logs
Magnificent spreads
Treasure hunting howls
Firefly bouncing lanterns
Papa bear leads on
Water dripping stones
Canteen quenches appetite
Canoe escapes free
Mother Nature’s trail
Relating all families
Under one blue roof
These feel good. Very good.
I love the challenges. But I realized that I was neglecting my contracted, paying fiction for poems . . . so I will work on as I have time. After I catch up. Sigh. I’d rather howl on the nature trail with the rest of you.
I wondered how you were keeping up. Just jump in when you can. I don’t think your editor will take poeming as an excuse for being late. 🙂
LOST IN MY SURROUNDINGS
I run down the trail, hunting for answers
in this refuge far from home,
answers to who and why I am.
I come to this spot not for a vacation
but to escape the heavy presence of myself.
Can I find a sign in the dignity of nature?
A family of bear cubs romps through the woods,
clumsy feet snapping twigs.
Leaping over a log, a pair of young wolves
howl in their delight at this improvised game.
I pause to skip stones across the lake
watching lazy ripples extend over the water.
A solitary figure maneuvers a canoe
back to his nylon hotel after filling his canteen.
I’m jealous. Mine remains empty.
While fireflies work as a lantern.
I contemplate my life with less enthusiasm
than I have for the magnificent stars.
© Susan Schoeffield
This ends on a subtle “downer,” but it is beautifully written, in my opinion.
A lovely, wistful poem, Susan.
Pingback: Lost In My Surroundings | Words With Sooze
In Nature’s Hide-a-way
In Nature’s Hideaway
Days have lost their names, who cares,
We have the sun to guide us.
When it opens up the sky, it’s time to eat.
When it nestles down in the piney woods
We party.
Afternoons we guide our canoes
through murky, dreaming waters.
Bears and deer spy on us from the
shoreline. Lazy old carp tempt us
from the muddy bottom. All of them
are safe from harm.
Our camp is in a no-hunting zone.
It is a hotel for retired animals. The
only hunting allowed is for lost coins.
At night, the stars lend us their glitter.
All the creatures that ever were, nestle
among them. We walk quietly along
the trails. Our only lantern is the moon.
Utterly gorgeous, this. I love ” a hotel for retired animals.”
Piggy-backing William on this one!
Escape
We went on a vacation
and traveled by canoe
we sang camp songs
under a magnificent view.
No one threw stones
at windows that didn’t exist,
our home was a tent,
our couch a log bench.
Our hotel had trees
and a family of bears,
we’d bang our canteens
to let them know we were there.
At night,
we would shut the lanterns off
and the stars filled the sky
like ten billion fireflies.
We howled like wolves
and drank water from the lake,
we hunted for signs of life
it wasn’t hard to mistake.
Nature opened her arms
and embraced us all,
we headed for home
with stories to enthrall.
This sounds idyllic to me; enthralling, even. Love it.
Escape From Camp Granada
We scoffed at the idea of a scavenger hunt,
but needed a vacation from camp,
with its whistles, counselors, and rules.
We were no fools, and split off from the group,
carrying a bag of red stones, collected
on a nature hike, to mark our way.
Magnificent day for an adventure.
Just in case we lost our way, and night fell,
we took a lantern for the dark.
Three smart boys even remembered to fill
our canteens with plenty of water.
Nothing could possibly go wrong.
Crossed long logs over streams,
devoured candy bars we had hoarded,
and found ourselves in new surroundings.
After bounding over the last log,
we stumbled over a piece of metal.
I turned it over. It was a sign.
Yellow lines of caution, “Beware of
Bears, and Poison sumac. Whitey fell
right into the lap of poisonous leaves.
“Oh Jeeez,” Cody yelled, and pulled him
out. Too late. a rash was already
stenciling his legs. I suggested we go back,
and right at that exact moment, a howl
resounded from deep in the woods.
We froze, our toes like lead.
turning around, we saw another sign
that said, “No Hunting.” Figuring
it wasn’t meant for bears, we ran,
fast as we could stand it, drinking
from our canteens on the fly. Red
with bites, sweating and scratching,
we finally made it back to Home Sweet Home,
Camp Granada, where all the kids
and counselors were out to greet us.
At least we looked the part of scavengers.
Wonderful, and the last line is perfect.
Thanks so much, William.
My wordle is slowly writing itself…
Pingback: GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – CAMP DANCE; SUMMER ROMANCE | CREATIVE BLOOMINGS
Pingback: GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – YOUR AREA ADVENTURES | CREATIVE BLOOMINGS
Here’s some wordlecide for you. http://miskmask.wordpress.com/2014/07/21/campcide-tales-day-21-wordlecide/
Pingback: GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – IT’S RAINING, AGAIN (OUTSIDE): INTERVIEW WITH PEARL KETOVER-PRILIK | CREATIVE BLOOMINGS
Pingback: GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – AT YOUR SERVICE | CREATIVE BLOOMINGS
Pingback: GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – THREE-LEGGED RACE | CREATIVE BLOOMINGS