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The Love of My Life,  My Little Red Car

By
Georgia Burnette

 

My little red car doesn’t go very far
Because it’s so old, or so I’m told
But it’s served me long and it’s served me well
So I’ve told those mechanics “you can all go to hell!”

It’s MY little car and I really do love it
So I’ll keep it a while, push, pull it or shove it
It’s eleven years old, but still looks very nice
‘Cause that original paint job was all sugar and spice

My little red car takes me here and there
Wherever I go, I haven’t a care
It’s fun, it’s fast and despite wear and tear
It’s reliable, desirable, we’re a perfect pair!

My little red car laughed so hard at me
And it laughed till it cried, just recently
We’d decided to keep it as my old runabout
But it laughed even harder when it found that out!

No sooner had the decision been made
To retain that car, when it began to fade!
A transmission was needed, and needed right now
Plus pollution-control devices, those are sacred cows!
Next a rotor, then a paint job
And who knows what else
My little red car
Will demand for itself?
But never you mind, I love it still
My little red car and its’  big repair bills!

They told me to trash it
But I didn’t listen
And await the new paint job
When I know it will glisten

My little red car’s now as happy as a lark
It shimmers and glistens with a brand new spark
It’s repaired and repainted and really fined tuned
Now I won’t have to sell it, at least not so soon
For it didn’t want to leave me, and I didn’t want it to go
Cause it’s always been the “best of show”

My little red car promised faithfully to stay
In the best of repair, until one day
I’d be required to take a look
At shiny new cars or check the “Blue Book”
At which time I must send it away
Then I’d buy a new car, Oh, I rue the day!

 

But whatever I buy, and it must be red
That little red car will dance in my head
I’ll never forget it, for I love it so
But how much longer can it go?
Well, it really doesn’t matter, it’s mine ‘till the end
For that little red car’s been a very good friend.

4/03

Note: This poem was written three years after purchase of the little red car I now have, a 2000 Toyota Celica. However, nothing will ever take the place of that 1986 Honda Prelude, my second Little Red Car.

© 2008 Georgia Burnette

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