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· Registered
8 Posts
Discussion Starter · #1 ·
You can have your fancy restaurants, Nightclubs and downtown haunts.
I’d rather find a place to camp, If not too cold and not too damp.

I’d rather scorch a can of beans, Than get a meal by other means.
Just give me wood coals, red and hot, T o cook up what I’ve caught or shot.

No lobster bisque, no wine to sip. No calculations for a tip.
Fine crystal, china I don’t need, Nor obscure menus I cant read.

Just pots and pans and sturdy mugs. Don’t look while I spoon out the bugs!
The best way to be dining out, Is o’er campfire with grouse or trout!

I’d rather view a starlit sky, With meteors that rocket by
Than gaze upon the city lights, And all the other urban sights,

The outdoors is my country club. No dues to pay, no guests to snub.
No one I feel I must impress, Who’d judge the way I look or dress.

No squeaky shoes, no stylish suits. I’d rather stroll in hunting boots.
Though flannel and wool I wear, My camo hats make people stare.

I’d rather walk a woodland trail, Free to roam o’er hill and dale.
I don’t see the sense or gain, In waiting in line to board a plane.

The quiet path brings peace of mind, While leaving all the crowds behind.
The journey’s slow but so worthwhile. I see much more in every mile.

Museum tours are not for me. Nature gives me more for free!
Encased displays don’t thrill me much, Outside I get to see and touch!

From mountaintops the view’s pristine, Far better than most art I’ve seen.
And every creature ‘neath the sun, Alive and well and on the run.

Sometimes I take a quad to ride, And drive off where I can hide.
From urgent tasks and strict demands, And other things out of my hands.

My destination, unknown parts; Where pavement ends my journey starts.
Where the roads all disappear, Where some say, “You cant get there from here.”

Where the going’s getting tough, And the terrain proves steep and rough,
An unmarked trail with no help near, On foot’s the only way from here.

All I need is in my pack, A welcome weight upon my back.
My independence worth the strain, My self-reliance all my gain

No yacht, no skipper’s cap, no crew, I’m quite content with my simple canoe.
No motor for the streams and lakes. Some paddle strokes are all it takes.

No trailer hitch, no docking fees. It fits inside my truck with ease.
I might not get there quite as fast, But the memories are sure to last.

Play 18 holes like other guys? Or find a brook and cast some flies?
For me it’s such an easy call. I’ll cast a line, not chase a ball.

A tugging fish upon my hook. Explaining it would take a book.
Such fun seems a’ crime, Until you try it just one time.

There’s joy galore in hunting deer. The quiet as a buck draws near.
No money buys what I have got, As I make one well-placed shot.

To hunt a rabbit with a hound, His baying like no other sound.
Or stomp all day through briar and brush, To flush a bird and feel the rush!

My swinging axe makes wood chips fly, No chainsaw owner fathoms why.
The muscle motion is the perk, A close connection to hard work.

And when the day is done at last, There’ll be no all-night party blast.
I’ll simply head off quite content, To sleeping bags and cozy tents.

No modern tunes lull me to sleep, Tranquility in camp I’ll keep.
Better to hear the hoot and howl, The serenade of loon and owl.

The city life is right for you, But I’ll take a cabin with a view.
You may keep your noisy city streets, Broadway shows and front-row seats.

Apartments 40 stories tall? No, I don’t envy you at all!
Work 60 hours to pay the rent? I think my money’s better spent.

No cashing in on stock reports, No summers spent in posh resorts.
At camp I’ll brave the dirt and bugs, Haul firewood and water jugs.

I’ll take the simple life complete, Including blisters on my feet.
Where baths are few and far between, And movie stars are seldom seen.

You say that camping’s not ideal, Still not convinced of its appeal?
Poke fun at me if that’s your wish, I’ll stay content to hunt and fish.

I’ll make it through cold, rainy nights, The sunburned skin and mosquito bites.
To hunt and fish, I’ll make this clear: The plan’s to go again next year!

Sorry for the length, but I figured this is a poem all would like and could connect to

· Registered
9,880 Posts
From a guy that has to put a suit on everyday (what I am doing now in fact)....but would rather be pulling on a pair of worn out boots. That my friend is PERFECT! Nice work!
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