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![senior scribes](http://www.countynewsonline.org/img/sponsorship.jpg) |
Darke County Senior Scribe
Summer Travel
By Lois Wilson
Once again Senior Scribe Poet Laureate Lois Wilson is on top of the
season with her insightful look at the important events of the day.
This time it’s summer traveling. Wilson offers four poems, each
addressing a different look at the challenges and wonders of summer
travel… most of which we can all identify. Take a look! See which one
(or more) brings back your own memories, distant or recent.
Wilson's completed set - five volumes - of published poetry is now
available and is offered as a fundraiser for the Senior Scribes
Scholarship Fund. Enjoy great poetry and help a local youngster attend
college. For additional information, contact
editor@countynewsonline.org.
FIRST LOVE
They'd been buckled together
Since he was in his teens.
No matter what the weather,
They drove to all the scenes.
Past twenty, he met his bride.
His love embraced one more.
He traveled, wife by his side;
Children soon numbered four.
Though trapped feelings did descend,
He remained a faithful man.
His fixation didn't end—
But it switched from car to van!
© 2009 Lois E. Wilson
IT’S HIS FAULT
He is driving along
On a strange highway route
With his directions crossed.
The man is often wrong,
Though he’s never in doubt—
His emotions are tossed,
But he won’t pay the cost
And admit, “I am lost!”
© 2010 Lois E. Wilson
TRAVEL RAVEL
The pair liked to take trips historical—
From Mount Vernon to the Liberty Bell.
Their travel agent was no oracle
With no mastery of the clerical.
They found many closed sites,
No rooms booked for most nights.
From the troubles they tell,
It’s clear little went well—
Their historical turned hysterical!
© 2015 Lois E. Wilson
TRAVEL TALK
Mom, he hit me.
I still can't see.
He took my toy.
Be a good boy.
She's on my side.
Well, you're too wide.
Dad, I need food.
I don’t feel good.
I have to stop.
He spilled his pop.
His seat's all wet.
Are we there yet?
Her seat belt's off.
Cover your cough!
He pulled my hair.
I need some air.
Let's give a cheer—
Thank God we're here!
© 2007 Lois E. Wilson
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