CAMP BURTON

A poem urges all to pitch in

Our very own Camp Burton’s hurtin’, of this, we’re sadly sure

times are hard and so uncertain, the last three years a blur.

Like everyone’s, their road’s been rocky, potholed, and strewn with bills,

the reason for this jabberwocky is a plea to heal their ills.

We need them like an answered prayer, they’ve helped so many of us

to know the thrill of fresher air, salt waves, tall trees above us.

Our very own Camp Burton’s hurtin’, and something must be done,

bake sale, auction? Talent show? Let’s raise a stage’s curtain!

Our very own Camp Burton’s hurtin’ — our work has just begun.

Jan Lofland

Editor’s note: This poetic letter is in response to an article in the Feb. 16 issue of The Beachcomber, “Camp Burton, beloved by generations on Vashon, is in financial peril.” Find out more about how to help the camp at campburton.com.