Her Gps - Poem by Francie Lynch
When we got in the car
She turned on the GPS.
'We're only going to London, ' I smirked.
'It's sixty miles on a straight road.'
'I know, but this makes it easy, ' she smiled,
'And tonight, I'll make you an Irish stew.'
'Is that easy too?
'It's a straight road! she quipped.
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