Been looking through my old notebooks again, and found a scribble in relation to the Orange One-Man Tent I was assigned during my time as a scouter with the 90th Salford. The title of the poem relates to the name of the tent – which I slept in on campsites in Greater Manchester, Cheshire , Derbyshire and Cumbria.
Oh little resting place of mine
set among forest of green
lashed down on the grassland
in space of trees between.
Your A-Frame and Flysheet,
are a real treat,
against the clouds
you cannot be beat.
And under your flysheet is perfect,
for drying boots after ‘ hike
as raindrops drain down, into gully of brown
and one or two of your spikes
When midges arrive, you’re a cover –
whilst getting prepared for parade
and when sunshine is fierce and fiery
you provide the perfect shade.
Plenty of space for my camp kit
at head of my bag I will rest
and as I work and play, they’ll be safe all day
under the best cover in camp in the west
And when I seek you , out at night
your reflecting orange shines in torchlight
and as I rest my happy head
your canvas cover overlooks my bed.
They call you the “Good Companion”
The orange tent on forest ground
A place that is home for a scouter –
the best little tent all around.
The Inkwell 