In Whispering Hills under the sky so wide,
We camped with our kids, by the fireside.
Activities aplenty, laughter filled the air,
Fireworks lit the night, with a dazzling flare.
Tent sites were shaded, a welcome delight,
But the dust all around, wasn’t quite right.
Playground mulch spread might bring some ease,
To this otherwise, nature’s masterpiece.
But oh, the restrooms, they did dismay,
A child's misfortune, a tu*d in their way.
Not their own, yet it clung to their shoe,
An unpleasant surprise, a memory askew.
Disc golf, mini golf, games galore,
Yet, the bathroom flaws, we couldn’t ignore.
Floors merged as one, shower to loo,
Water overflowed, causing a messy brew.
For a hundred a night, we hoped for the best,
Yet left with a feeling, quite unimpressed.
Whispering Hills, so much potential you hold,
Fix those flaws, and stories of grandeur will be told.