The Joyride Poem by Mary Nagy

The Joyride



We always go out driving... that's what we love to do.
We'll all pile in and go, the kids and me and you.

We look at fancy houses and dream of ''One day we'll...''
We like to count the cows seen grazing on the hill.

Rolling down the windows and feeling the cool breeze.
The leaves are turning colors, getting ready for the freeze.

We hear the twigs start cracking underneath our muddy tires.
Looking for the black birds all lined along the wires.

The kids will give a clap and send the birds up in a tizzy,
we just keep on laughing now until we're feeling dizzy.

If we can find a two-track with a sign ''road closed ahead''
you know we're turning off the street and going there instead!

Once we're stuck we'll all just push, we don't mind anyway.
For us this is the life....and this is our favorite kind of day! !

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Tony Jennett 04 November 2005

Frivolity becomes you Mary; just as well as tragedy and pain

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Velvet Thorn 09 September 2005

Beautiful, vivid imagery.

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John Kay 09 September 2005

Mary...must be an American passtime. Here in Germany we never drive around looking at houses, but when we lived in Oregon we did it every weekend. I like the good solid images, and the rhymes are not strained, they seem natural. Good poem. It kept moving forward and I kept wanting to go along; I didn't have to struggle or force myself.

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Uriah Hamilton 09 September 2005

A fun poem, I was really digging the black birds and the cows.

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