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.