Caricatures is just a collection of goofy poems and limericks about the people who attended Winter Camp XVIII. The tradition has not continued, although it easily could.
Lou Pezet is in charge of our group
though the adults have brought him a hoop.
They boss him around
and then run him down
If I were him Iíd start my own troop.
Ross they call him or Fish some say
of course he left Winter Camp yesterday
as an Oatley child
he found us too wild
and our games were too rough to play.
Just another tag-along brother in camp,
though Carl is a quick little scamp
He was having no fun,
so off he did run,
with his folks to see dear olí gramp.
Though he is from eight forty-two,
you have to give Jordan his due
he fought to come here
despite his momís fear
but asthma made him this trip rue.
No tag-along brother this one
Adamís out here to have his own fun.
Itís not just fate
that at soccer heís great
for his hands and his pockets are one.
There once was an engineer Doug
who owned a Volkswagen bug
built in Ď65
Ďere most were alive
and to this day he still makes it chug.
There once was a fellow named Rand
who insisted that all life be planned
He did not like fun,
unless it was done
at the direction of his guiding hand.
Josh Caldwell does just what he says
whether itís knives or collecting pez.
if he takes a hobby,
you donít have to lobby
Someday heíll probably be prez.
Brian Mann does not much like sleep
and strange hours he likes to keep
heíll stay up all night
demonstrating his might
at Risk, where his rules are a leap.
Polifroniís the artistic type
whose cartoons are activities hype
theyíre all drawn by hand
and look rather grand
at least Ďtil the board gets a wipe.
Our menu does not seem to please Dave
And nothing on it makes him rave
he brings his own stuff
so heíll get enough
of the crackers and cheese he does crave.
Dave Woods attends one thing a year
lucky for us, he always comes here.
He likes to learn
and new things discern,
Someday heíll be an engineer
All of Clearwater begins to weep
Steve Donohue is now asleep
What sounds like a roar
is actually his snore
leaving no cause for counting of sheep.
With its noise like an atomic blast
his snore leaves the whole room aghast.
The wee hours it fills
as your spine it chills
for all thoughts of sleep are long past.
For sleep his snore is a bane
itís enough to drive you insane
You think heís a jerk,
since you have to work
and heís made your efforts in vain.
Ron Donohueís sometimes called "Beast"
though itís the nickname he likes the least
heís now long of tooth
and itís from his youth
and a time that he calls "deceased".
The Beast is an interesting chap
who loves to just sit and yap
he knows some stuff best
and makes up the rest
till you wish heíd just shut his trap
There once was a camper, Mark Hunt
who, though youngest, was hardly a runt
he was a card
who liked to work hard
and at work he didnít mind the brunt.
John Howey faked an injury
who pretended that he hurt his knee
to skip the blind hike
and things he didnít like
he even arranged surgery.
There once was a trash-talker Joe
who at popcorn selling was slow.
Heíd spend all his cash
on his Sega stash,
then heíd hit his dad up for more dough.
There once was a Bollman named Mark
who thought trivia more than a lark
he can not relax
Ďtil he knows the facts
so to taunt him, leave him in the dark.
Joe Hall, though not twenty-one,
seems clearly to find drinking fun
though many have thunk
"What an unpleasant drunk!"
Why, Iíve even pondered a gun.
A good Christian man Roger Horn
leaves for work from here every morn
he comes back at night
to a heck of a sight
of the sort against which momís warn.
Though once known as "Little Ozzie"
It seems plain to everybody
that it doesnít apply
when you mean a guy
who weighs in between two and three.
His speech is filled with "duhs"
and some folks call him "Cuz"
on a tiny guitar he played
"Iím a silly little milk maid"
and his hairís not as long as it was.
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