I had always liked camping in France

And often visited the Notre-Dame campsite

Which was a hour shy of Pau

In a way I was rather protective of my happy campsite

And was not best pleased when at a very early hour

The woman from my neighbouring tent

Left the sanctuary of her dreams

And wandered towards the nearby shrubs and flowers

Who happened next both excited and disgusted me

In short she removed her black panties

And pissed into the small golden flowers

The same thing happened again the following morning

On this occasion I tried to bully her into submission

I exited my tent with a cheery greeting

This made absolutely no difference as the same thing happened again

Although by now she has changed into a violet tee shirt

The trouble was that I was rather enjoying her exhibition

It was stirring up voyeuristic feelings that I never knew I had

I was beginning to become really attracted to the her shapely backside

Although that said I was totally disgusted with her behaviour

My French was not really up to scratch so I kept quiet

And then I had a brainwave which I hoped would illustrate my feelings

As I was tired of buying endless bottles of Evian

To keep the flowers fresh and sweet

I had inherited from my mother a serious artistic ability

My mother was a well known and much appreciated portrait artist

Whereas I had become an illustrator specialising in graphic novels

My plan was to record in three or four frames Marie Claude’s morning toilet

The results were rather good and I was impressed with my pen

It was a subtle reminder not to piss anywhere in the vicinity of tents

I slipped my illustrations into an envelope and attached it to her outdoor chair

When I woke up next morning she was gone and had vacated her tent space

It was as I was congratulating myself on a job well done

That I discovered a strange envelope

Hidden between my sleeping bag and camping pillow

The envelope contained a pornographic drawing of me

Which I cannot begin to discuss in polite company

It was accompanied by a short note which read

Je ne m’appelle pas Marie-Claude