The Woods, the Fort

 

The Woods, the Fort

Any patch of trees will do,

A vacant lot is tried and true,

For building forts as little boys,

Sticks and rocks are their toys,

A group of boys in the neighborhood,

Camaraderie-forming, as it should,

Shovels and rakes borrowed from dad,

And hours of strategic planning were had,

Raking away the piles of debris,

Making a path on hand and knee,

Digging holes to thwart the invaders,

Battling thorns and wearing waders,

To cross the creek, just north of the fort,

And muddy footprints, but mom’s a good sport,

Hours of fun, creating their own space,

It puts more than just a smile on their face,

Walkie-talkie communication,

More than just recreation,

It is teambuilding skills put into action,

It’s a rite of passage with much satisfaction,

Playing in the woods, getting dirty, feeling free,

Gaining independence, that is the key.

Tammy Harvey  1/12/2026

This poem was inspired by my two grandsons who have recently built a "fort" in the wooded lot next to their house along with the neighborhood boys.  Having raised three sons, I am particularly aware that this is an important part of growing up!