WEARY months I've spent in Tampa, where the luscious hardtack grows; 'T is a wondrous fruit, dear sister, which fact every soldier knows. And it grows — please pass the butter! — grows in Tampa as I said — Sister! just a few potatoes! Mother, won't you pass the bread! Tell you all about our camp life? Certainly — please pass the bread! Well, we got up in the morning and at night we went to bed. Then, sometimes, we — Sister! help me to another piece of steak! Yes, and then, again, we — Mother! what fine gravy you can make! Did we have good meals at Tampa? Yes, indeedy — in a horn! Best the land afforded — Sister! give me one more ear of corn! Meals down there were so delightful that I — Mother! pour the tea! So delightful that — Say, sister! is that succotash I see? Well, as I was saying, camp life is — Say, sister! pass the slaw! Camp life is — Say, mother! just a bit more steak — er — medium raw! To go back to camp life — Will I have some chicken salad, say! Will I? Well, you try me! Sister! won't you pass the bread this way! Down at Tampa — what's that, mother? Did I hear you mention pie? Ice cream, too! and apple dumplin's! — this must be heaven in the sky! Down to Tampa — easy, mother! just two lumps is all I take! Down at — O! confound old Tampa. Sister! won't you pass the cake! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TOMORROW by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE QUALITY OF COURAGE by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE HILL ABOVE THE MINE by MALCOLM COWLEY THE FLOWER BOAT by ROBERT FROST A MAN'S VOCATION IS NOBODY'S BUSINESS by JAMES GALVIN CHERRY BLOSSOMS BLOWING IN WEST BLOWING SNOW by JAMES GALVIN |