Out in the RV,
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even me.
The puppies were nestled,
All snug in their bed,
While visions of dog bones,
Danced in their heads.
Mama in her night gown,
An me in my wrap,
Climbed up in the bunk,
To get a good nap.
When out in the camp,
The lights turned all red,
I sprang up in the bunk,
And fell out of bed.
Away to the window,
I flew like a flash,
Threw open the curtain,
My thumb I did smash.
The moon on the crest,
Of this great outdoor scene ,
Told me the beach was still there,
And the grass was still green,
When what to my wondering,
Eyes did appear,
But a vintage Shasta,
Pulled by a John Deer.
The driver was round,
A right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him,
In spite of myself.
Around the camp ground,
He drove at slow speed,
Waving to all,
But there was no need.
Then parking his rig,
Right next to mine,
He had it set up,
In a very short time.
Then he went straight to work,
And filled a big bag,
He had it so full,
I thought it would drag.
Around to each camp,
He silently strode,
And left a small box,
To lighten his load.
As the dawn was breaking,
And the sky's got lighter,
He packed up his Shasta,
And hooked up his tractor.
But I heard him exclaim,
As his tractor did run,
Happy RVing to all,
Because camping is fun!
Alonzo Gene Tillery Sr
2014
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