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Camping without Nature

A silly little poem on glamping

By G. A. BoteroPublished 21 days ago 1 min read
1

Oh camping, its such a task

I sit in a leather chair

in this large tin can.

--

I wake up early

for my eggs and ham

cooked by Juliette

my camping hand.

--

I smell the flowers

freshly picked by Jose

and delivered to me

like a giant bouquet.

--

I go to bed late

so I can see all the stars

though these bugs I do hate

blocking my skylight view of mars.

++++

Short silly poem. Thanks for reading.

humornature poetryFor Fun
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About the Creator

G. A. Botero

I have a million bad ideas, until a good one surfaces. Poetry, short stories, essays.

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Comments (1)

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  • Dharrsheena Raja Segarran21 days ago

    Bugs are why I would never go camping hehehe. Loved your poem!

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