Camping and Fishing
Covered in muck, dust, dirt and filth,
The rods were pulled from the shed,
Brought inside, through the kitchen,
And laid all over the bed.
And the tackle box was emptied of hooks and sinkers,
Old lures, old bobs, and line,
Then the esky got emptied of the last camping trip,
Of empty old bottles of wine.
All washed and dried with thick soapy water,
Then packed to wait for the day,
When we’d all get up early and, with our tent and our beds,
We’d simply just drive away.
And the day came along, we all left the house,
Released from the old ball and chain,
We went camping and fishing, up by the river,
In a torrential, cold steady pouring rain.
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