Calliope

 As a bit of a precis…

 

A member of the Bourgeoisie,

My ride I called Calliope,

Centurion, officially,

A sport coupe—early ‘70s.

 

We had such fun, were so carefree,

Ripped up the roads from A to B,

Music screaming like banshees,

From bush party to bush party!

 

Filled with fine teenaged esprit,

(But also strength to some degree…)

E’en went ‘sparking’ (Oh, dear me!)

In the shade of some old tree.

 

The chores were done, I grabbed the key,

An evening’s fun was meant to be,

But first some fuel from gas tank ‘three’,

Or was it ‘one’? Oh, Lord, help me!

 

Decision made, this devotee,

Filled half the tank, then turned said key,

The engine knocked alarmingly,

“Need gas, not diesel,” my Sweet Pea!

 

With fortune smiling at my plea,

(I’d filled it just half-way, you see)

“Top it with gas,” my dad decreed,

Said, “Burn it off!” to Bro and me.

 

Adventure followed, some whoopee,

Car pounded like some timpani,

Cruising ‘Main’, the sights to see,

With all our friends. So young. Carefree.

 

My sweet car aged despite my pleas,

The two doors sagged to vast degree,

Her parts no longer guaranteed,

And way past her own warranty...

 

Calliope went across the lea,

Retired, spent, discharged, set free,

Replaced by new and great. ‘Gutsy’,

But never quite the same. To me.

Cause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So Jenny, Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?
Next week, we'll write (You will be awed!),
Of SPUNKY, OLD and AWESOME BROADS!





Thinking of joining us for Poetry Monday?
We'd love to welcome you!
Topics for the next few weeks...
Craziest Vacation Memory (February 8)
From Your Pet's Point of View (February 15)

Favourite Word that Starts With D (February 22)
Peanut Butter Day (March 1)