Wednesday 19 September 2012

Camp senses poem




THORNTON BEACH CAMP
The loud, blue waves crashing against the shore.
The hot, sizzling sausages cooking on the barbeque.
The loud, annoying wind whistling against the tent.
The freezing, cold water splashing through my toes.
The delicious, hot milo rushing down my burning throat.
I think the beach is the best thing in
the World .
Tommy


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