Scouts on Goblin Hill is a poem about the adventure of three scouts who ventured into the wild how the magical campfire came to their rescue.
Three Scouts had set out that day,
Hiking and singing in the usual way.
They traveled far, across many hills,
Looking for adventure and to prove their will.
Their singing and laughing carried them on,
The farther and farther from home they had gone.
But the jubilee subsided once darkness came.
From that point on the boys weren’t the same.
They lost track of time and had paid it no care.
Now they knew that they had better beware.
For the boys were not lost, no, they knew where they stood.
Upon Goblin Hill, the home of the haunted wood.
Shapes started forming and there where whispers from the trees.
Our Scouts made haste to find safer campgrounds than these.
They moved along at a skittish pace, scanning the wood grove for an unfamiliar face.
Soft voices were heard by the passing bats, cries of “look here!” and “what’s that?”
Panicked and trembling they moved along.
Long forgotten were their hiking songs.
But then the leader let his courage conspire and he proclaimed…
“We’re Scouts! Let’s make fire!”
The light was cast and now they could see
That the night is a trickster and they’d been deceived.
There were no goblins, ghosts, or such.
They laughed to think that they had feared so much.
It was the trees and the animals that they saw and heard.
The juniper, skunk, the oak and the birds.
Together they joined to share stories and sing.
The mighty campfire! What a magical thing.