There won’t be much poem
I had to tow the thing home
It was a dark British green
An ugly shade to be seen
It was never much fun
The damned thing wouldn’t run
It was a ’52 Morris
It wouldn’t start for us
I got it for free
The owner overcharged me
It came home from a farm
The chickens did it some harm
We towed it home with a rope
I never had any hope
I didn’t take time to love it
I just quickly said ‘Shove it’
Mr. Snake-Oil did offer
An older trade he did proffer
I can’t think of a rhyme for ‘learning experience.’ If you haven’t already, but would like to read about my early automotive adventures, click to go back to read about My First Cars.
