Caravan and poem.

If I had a caravan.
I’d be in it all the time,
doing dishes,
drying up, eating shortbread by the clock.
I wouldn’t have a 4 by 4,
to tow my caravan about
I’d rather have a van or some bears,
they could get my caravan up any stairs.
I would tour round all the cities,
people would come in my caravan
for a gentle break from their norm
I’d make them up a cup of tea
with formula milk and Tetley.

It’ll be such a nice place.
Chilled, refined and empty of space.
As what could be better than
sitting in one’s caravan
letting the world meander by
there’s nothing bad in the caravan
free to roam like a free range ram.

I see you think this is not a poem.

Well take this you naysayer you,
do you have a portable loo?
Boiling water on tap
vintage sofas and more too?
Any day you fancy eating your words with
some cheese and biscuits call on me
I won’t be far
with my caravan and ah ha.