Kingswood For Life Issue 3

LOOKING PROUDLY DOWN
Wiff,
As always, a note from you brings me directly to the shores of Mother T. Ah, to be present on the day of a sparkler is pure magic and though those days are
fleeting, permanently etched in my memory, and accessible at all times.
I was going through some old sketchbooks and found one I had during my Summers at Kingswood. In it was a poem, perhaps written as a part of my, ahem,
consecutive Songfest victories as Arrow Captain. The tone of the work seems to speak of an end to Summer and a longing for beginnings. I am sure that I
borrowed liberally from a currently unnamed poet, so to that person thank you. Not title was present in the sketchbook, so I ask that you name it.
There?s something off about Kingswood,
It?s far too big today;
There aren?t any cheers or whoops
With all the boys away.
The boats are beached and very still,
The infield has no base.
The clubs and discs, the bats the balls
Are strangely all in place.
Upon the middle of the floor
No magazine is spread,
With campers sprawled in childish ease
And comics to be read.
No bathing suits upon the line
Or calls of ?Time to eat!?
No tracks upon the cabin floor
Brought in by running feet.
Home is a place so very nice
For those who go that way.
But an empty lodge is lonely camp
For those who have to stay.
A parent?s glad a child can go
To camp, a while to thrive,
But gladder still, the counselor seems,
When that same child arrives.
Ever vigilant,
Hammer