Retreat from Buttermere




Mum, Dad, us 3 boys had escaped
our city lives and home
for healthy rest by lakes and fell
and planned to sail and roam.

We city slickers drove up north
aiming for fields remote
and pitched our tent and made our camp.
“This is the life”, end quote

All had jobs: “That’s the country way”.
Mine was to get water.
Beside the lake, beneath the fells.
City lambs to slaughter

As we slept in those crisp new bags
it poured and rained and poured.
The tent collapsed and floated off
and more things untoward

We abandoned camp, then and there
To sleep cramped in the car.
Between 2 brothers, I couldn’t sleep
whilst perpendicular.

With day came a break in the storm
and so too our real wish
to live this great outdoors despite
all suffering and anguish!

We rigged our boat, climbed aboard to
set sail upon the mere.
Half a mile out we were becalmed
no wind, no need to steer

The rains returned, a deluge now.
Through mist, we couldn’t see
No shelter from, and no retreat
“Oh God, please let us be!”

We sat and took our punishment
for daring to escape
our city life, to breathe this air
- Trying to change our shape

We paddled, half swam, to the shore
arriving ill and cold.
We ditched our tent, our camp, this life
with speed quite uncontrolled

“Put it anywhere, I don’t care!”
The city folk got out.
We know our place, its there not here.
Of that we had no doubt