Our Camping Group.

Summer time is a time of fun.

When we pack up our camper's.

And take off in a run, to a favorite place.

By a cool Mountain stream,

Where the fish go in school's, and you see them gleam.

This place of our choice, has many oak tree's.

And if we're lucky we'll get a south breeze.

When we unload our provisions, what a sight to see.

We have every thing, from A to Z.

There's a Red one Two Blue ones, and a Tan one you know. The owners names, are Smith, Bottoms, and Winn's.

When they all get together, the fun begins,

We fish a while in the beautiful stream,

And when we get tired, we sit and dream.

Of another day, when we had better luck.

On a Deer camping trip, when we bagged a Buck,

We sit up our Canopy, on the ground so hard,

Unfold a table, and then play card's,

We now draw names for partners, you see .

There's Henry and Carl, and Myrtle Marie.

Kenneth and Paul, Thelma and Kay,

And of course Gladys, who is always gay.

We mustn't forget Carrol, Sheila, and Cloy,

They are three little girls, who should have been boys.

We some times have Dina, Angelia, and Joe.

Three more of our campers, we like to know.

But of all the places we like to be,

Is down at Lancaster, under the old Oak thee.

Where the Wolves howl, and the Coons prowl.

And the trains go rumbling by,

While we sleep under a starry sky,

And dream of big fish , we have yet to catch,

On the dozens of lines we so carefully set,

And the fish we'll eat, out under the sky.

While we watch the planes over head go by,

When our ice chest's are empty, and our foods running low. We load up our campers, and home we go.

By Thelma Ripper Smith