The Friday Fling Writes Around the Campfire!
Friday Fling #136 July 8th 2011
Now that we are past the signature “midsummer” celebration on the Fourth of July (even though it really comes less than two weeks after the official START of Summer), it’s all downhill from here. Right to the campground, or for many kids, summer camp!
Are you like me and when you couldn’t afford to have the whole family stay in a motel in an expensive summer resort area, and you loved the outdoors and wanted your kids to learn to love it, you took ’em camping? Oh. Well, I did.
For several years in the 1970s our summer campground of choice was Shawme Crowell State Forest on Cape Cod. Nothing like waking up to fresh pine air, then taking a short drive for a day at the beach.
Or if you are the wife and mother in the family, nothing like waking up to fresh pine air and have to wash dress two small children and yourself and cook your family breakfast on some sort of a grill. Which was, you guessed it, why we eventually stopped going camping.
Well after that I did take my kids camping myself for several summers, each year to a different campground in a different state. Lots of stories from those, most of which, fortunately I don’t remember.
No, I’m kidding. It was wonderful to bond with my children, especially since during much of the rest of the year I was busy preparing for all the classes I taught, or improving and maintaining the livabilityof our home.
Sorry I got so longwinded. But then I would not be me. Anyway, this week we thought you might enjoy being challenged to write about summer camping or summer camps past or present.
Cheryl suggests that if you need a muse, you could try to find it in a song title from the 1960s folk group Peter, Paul and Mary. As you can see in the poster above, they once did a whole record album about singing around a campfire!
You can find a vast list of their song titles here: http://www.peterpaulandmary.com/music/songlist.htm You could also take inspiration from the lyrics of any of their songs, or do a rewrite or interpretation of one.
This week the Friday Fling celebrates summer camps and camping!
Be sure to save time to read and comment refreshingly on your fellow Pals’ poetic adventures. Then go off to…summer camp? Your favorite campground? A nice motel? Your nice soft bed at home?
Fickle Finger of Fate Award for July 1st 2011
Congratulations Diane!
Lots of fond memories surrounding the campfires. Wonderful blog and theme! Congrats, Diane!
Welcome everyone to Friday Fling #136! This week we’re using the seemingly endless list of song titles of the Sixties folk group Peter, Paul and Mary to help us write poems about camping out and summer camp! The fire is glowing and the camp chairs are warming – come sit a spell, read, write, chat and…BYOM (bring your own marshmallows)! -Bob and Michelle
Oh I just remembered I have to do the lost blog!!! I’ll come back by tomorrow with a poem I’ll write it at work since I’m so unbusy there these days *sigh*
Here’s one about real events. Fictional story poem coming later.
.
.
I love Peter, Paul and Mary!! Just got a CD of theirs in the mail!!! Isn’t that funny?!
My favorite song of theirs is OLE STEWBALL I used to listen to that when I was little
and loved it so much. Great blog, Voo đ
Hearting for now…will try to make it back! đ :love:
PETER, PAUL AND MARY SONGBOOK A-E IN STORY FORM
From 24 GREEN STREET,
we drove 500 MILES
for what seemed like 75 SEPTEMBERS
before we finally reached the campground.
When we arrived, we immediately began A SOULIN,’
which got ALL GOD’S CRITTERS ALL MIXED UP,
since we were all white.
I recalled ALL MY TRIALS
ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT.
I was acquitted in every one of them
even though none were televised.
AND WHEN I DIE,
I expect you to APOLOGIZE
From AUTUMN TO MAY
like a whore of BABYLON,
for turning me in OH, SINNER MAN.
I will sing the BALLAD OF SPRING HILL,
while you have BAMBOO shoots
shoved under your finger nails
in a dark dungeon in some BEAUTIFUL CITY,
because ALL MEN ARE BROTHERS,
We had BEEN ON THE ROAD TOO LONG.
back when we were the BEST OF FRIENDS,
when you ran off with my girlfriends, BETTY & DUPREE
in my BIG BOAT, with your long, stringy hair
BLOWING IN THE WIND.
Later I heard you have been squeezed to death
in an Amozonian jungle
by a BLUE BOA CONSTRICTOR.
Then someone said no,
that was just BOB DYLAN’S DREAM.
Someone else said you were seen
outside a homelsee shelter in downtown Baltimore
asking passersby: BROTHER, CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?
BUT A MOMENT later, yet someone else
took my BY SURPRISE
by announcing that you were in CANAAN LAND,
with a character from Star Wars named Jar-Jar
who drove you around in his CAR-CAR.
I married and had twelve children.
When they were grown,
I wanted them all to go look for you.
“CHILDREN GO WHERE I SEND THEE,” I told them.
My CHILDREN, ONE AND ALL, heeded my call
after a hearty CHRISTMAS DINNER and a CIRCUS,
when I said: “COME AND GO WITH ME.”
Thus came THE COMING OF THE ROADS.
We looked everywhere,
even in the lair of the CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTOR
from THE CRUEL WAR.
Finally, at DANNY’S DOWNS,
we could say our long DAY IS DONE.
We found you, but DELIVERY DELAYED
when UPS mixed you up with another DEPORTEE,
a Chinese guy named DODI LI.
When we opened your crate,
you immediately said angrily,
“DON’T EVER TAKE AWAY MY FREEDOM!”
But then you added,
“DON’T GO DOWN TO THE QUARRY,
and DON’T LAUGH AT ME.”
I replied, “DON’T THINK TWICE, IT’S ALL RIGHT.”
and we left you DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE
EARLY IN THE MORNING.
You caught pneumonia in the EARLY MORNIN’ RAIN,
and died while fleeing to EL SALVADOR.
Now you are gone,
and I and my ERIKA WITH THE WINDY YELLOW HAIR
smell EVERY FLOWER.
Copyright July 7th 2011 RGD
This is for Voo…
Camping Daze
Out in nature we were prancing
Dancing with our native souls
In the sunshine and the shadows
Fellows with socks full of holes
Tender feet though not withstanding
Landing on the rocks and twigs
Soon were soaking in spring water
Wading with our jerky jigs
Over time the pain subsided
Soon we sought to make a fire
Piled up a heap of kindling
Soaked with sweat we did inquire
Who possessed a pack of matches
That escaped the steaming soak
Shrugs and wags were only offered
Other than a dusty choke
So we laid out our possessions
Hoping that the sun would help
But a thunderstorm came rambling
And with its clap we gave a yelp
As water poured down from the skies
In quantities beyond belief
We scrambled to our tents for shelter
Hoping we would find relief
And for a time we dodged the rain drops
Patting backs with devilish grin
Till the water started flowing
Round the tent and gushing in
Down the mountain went the kindling
Down the mountain socks and shoes
While the water level rose up
Leaving us in mucky ooze
Soon with brilliance we determined
Mother Natureâs message true
Get thee off of this here mountain
We agreed and off we flew
Sliding halfway down the mountain
Covered head to toe with mud
Jumped into our cars with hope
That weâd escape the coming flood
But Mother Nature had a plan
That we had never thought about
And she was going execute it
Over scream and cry and pout
Eventually the rain subsided
Soon we all were homeward bound
Where hot showers and libations
Prepped us for another round
After we checked the weather â of course!
Stewball
How to make Samora’s
Roast it nice and dark
All gooey on the inside
And crispy charred black
In-between two grahams
With a hunk of chocolate
Now take a big bite
Yummy camping treat
And ready for another
Going on the stick
Michelle R. King
7-8-11
Archived image unavailable
INTO THE DARKNESS
I hear them even now
when the night is still,
trailing off into the darkness
amid hushed whispers,
muffled shudders
and muted gasps,
the ghost stories
and scary tales we told
around the campfire
as the flames licked
the black of night,
stories told
at precisely midnight
when the moon
had reached its peak
and traveled halfway
toward the dawn.
And as the magic moonbeams
had us under their spell,
the flames of the campfire
leaping into the night,
their spits and crackles
punctuating the silence
and holding us in their grip,
to this day I remember
those stories that we shared
as they trailed off into night
with the smoky wisps
and fading embers
within the campfireâs glow.
(c) barbara kausteklis 7-8-11
KEEPER OF THE FIRE
~*~
24 GREEN STREET
500 Miles
From any where on
75 SEPTEMBERS A SOALIN
OF ALL GODS CRITTERS
ALL MIXED UP and on
ALL MY TRAIL leadin them
ALL THOUGH THE NIGHT on a wild goose trail and back again
I would APOLOGIZE on a warm
AUTUMN TO MAY but would that do me amy good
BAMBOO stuck out every where
Its a BEAUTIFUL CITY
BEACUSE ALL MEN ARE BROTHERS
And THE BEST OF FRIENDS
BETTY AND DUPREE got in that ole
BIG BOAD and was ‘a flowing down stream
Hair just ‘ a BLOWING IN THE WIND l
Blue ski above
Watch out younder comes a big ole BOA CONSTRICTOR
And it aint no BOB DYLANS DREAM
BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE A DIME
But at A MOMENT and oh but
BY SUPRISE
Them ole CAR CAR shore waz going fast
CHILDREN GO W HERE I SEND THEE and hide
CHILDREN ONE AND ALL
COME AND GO WITH ME its gona be alright tonight
CRUEL WAR it waz and ole
DANNYS DOWNS gotta the best of him
When DAY IS DONE
DONT EVER TAKE AWAY MY FREEDOM
EARLY IN THE MORNING
I alway git dem ole
GABRIELS MOTHERS HIWAY BALLAD # 16 BULES
HAYO HAYA
HUSH A BYE dont you cry Ill see you by and by
HYMN will be sung
I AM YOUR CHILD but lord help me
I DIG ROCK AND ROLL MUSIC
And let the beat go on
Written By: Bettie Davis ——————————————— (C) July o8 , 2o11
Here is a ‘lil something my crazy muse came up with. It’s not about summer camp or camping, but the trip getting there.
I used some song titles from PP&M. They are in quotation…
âRocky Roadâ
âBetty and Dupreeâ were the âBest of Friendsâ
The lived at â24 Green Streetâ
Betty said to Dupree âCome & Go with Meâ
on a camping adventure.
So, âEarly in the Morningâ they left
the âBeautiful Cityâ and headed out on the road.
Dupree suggested to Betty that they take some of their friends along,
to which Betty replied I donât âGive a Damn.â
Bettyâs reply caught Dupree âBy Surpriseâ
and she told Dupree she should âApologize.â
Betty apologized saying, âAll my Trialsâ
have just left me âAll Mixed Up.â
Dupree said âIf I Had My Wayâ Iâd take care
of those that are causing you your problems.
Iâd turn all of them into âInvisible Peopleâ
and kick their butts to âNo Manâs Land.â
First they stop and pick up âJimmy Whalen.â
Next, a little farther down the road,
they stopped and picked up âMs. Rheingoldâ
and her two daughters âLucyâ and âMary Beth.â
Flying down the road like they were âBlowin in the Wind,â
âItâs Rainingâ and the âGolden Vanityâ turns literally into a âCircus.â
Directly ahead of them in the middle of the road are âAll Godâs Critters.â
A truckload of animals âGoing to the Zooâ lay overturned in the road.
Betty fought the wheel of the âCar-Carâ as Ms. Rheingold screamed
âFor the Love of it All,â weâre all going to die!
As fate would have it, the careening car-car came to a stop inches from
the debris strewn pavement in front of them.
âItâs Magic,â Lucy uttered. âNo, it was a miracle,â shouted Mary Beth.
Look over there, âJesus is on the Wireâ right above the âLemon Tree.â
Dupree, after regaining her composure, glared at Betty and said,
âPlease slow down and drive like you have some sense,â
before we cross the âRiver of Jordanâ and reach âCanaan Land.â
Still having â500 Milesâ to travel to reach âGilgarra Mountain,â
Betty promised to drive more carefully.
Finally, many hours later, after driving âAll Through the Night,â they arrived at their destination.