Earth, Wind, Fire, and Water

We huddle, shivering, in the tent
Not the vacation we had planned
The wood was wet, the fire spent
The earth as sodden as quicksand
The rain pounds on, it will not relent
Beneath the tent the rivulets fan
The wind blows on in wild lament
It shakes the tent like a giant hand
My vacation days are all misspent
In this sodden, cruel wasteland
Camp again? I will not consent
Our next trip must include broadband