Ode to an Austin A40 Somerset
By Silver Spun Sand
- 2651 reads
All hail to thee – blessed car;
you served us well, and yet,
who could fail to recall
all those head-gaskets
you cost us...powder blue
with optional sun-roof
for the princely sum
of seven pounds, five
shillings, and sixpence.
Blessed be thy back-seat
with its fugged-up windows
that transported me and him
all the way to heaven
without turning the ignition,
yet drove us to perdition
the length of Putney High Street,
backfiring as we sped.
And blessed be that last,
smooth ride, when we brought
our daughter home – just
ten days old, and likewise,
the garage you languished in
when your big-end went,
to herald your demise,
and thus blessed be
thy final resting place
in that scrap-yard in the sky.
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Comments
Never had a car or driver's
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I could not resist this,
TVR
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Indrani Ananda My Dad would
Indrani Ananda
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Yes, I certainly did
TVR
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Nice one Tina, my first car
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Lovely ode to the auto,
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This poem gave me such a
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