Poetry in Lack of Motion

To be rescued five times in a week is quite humbling.

If only my car had not been so bumbling.

Not only Car 1, but Car 2 as well,

left me sitting and thus begins this sad tale.  

It all started with Scarlet, my lovely red Subaru,

seems she loves oil, not just in one quart, but two.

Or was that three or even four she was guzzling, 

that is, my friend, until this past Monday. 

That's when she sputtered and started to hack,

and left me stranded at the Cove Overlook.

Rescue number one was led by my mother

who took me to oil to fill up my poor Scarlet. 

We cranked up the engine, we whispered a prayer,

and Scarlet soon growled like a bear. 

Albeit how feeble was that mournful grumble,

I still took a chance and off we did rumble.

I was feeling quite hopeful, even a bit cheery,

but it wasn't too long 'til the situation turned dreary. 

I'd only gone eight miles you see

before Scarlet shuddered and I pulled the key.

My sister Roxie came to my rescue; 

(if you are counting, that's Rescue Number Two),

Letting me borrow her car to finish my quest 

Could I even begin to express how much I was blessed? 

Leo was called and to him I did whine

About the plight of myself and this poor car of mine. 

He came to my rescue with tools and a tow truck,

and hence my knight did rescue this damsel now stuck.

That was Rescue Number Three, and we headed for the home door,

when I got Car 2 backed up in a large drift of snow.

Leo came to my Rescue (remember this was Number Four),

with a shove from his tractor and a mighty heave-ho.

Then I zoomed off to work night shift, me and my old car;

"Morning Glory" as I call her would get the job done.

At least, so I thought, until morning arrived;

Her tire was flat and this was no fun.

Leo again was my hero, my handyman knight 

He pumped up my tire and oh, what a sight.

How resourceful, how manly, how unselfish and sweet.

Rescue Number Five now was complete. 

The moral of my tale, I really don't know,

except to keep your car oiled,

and your snowplow quite handy,

have a spare tire ready with the jack in the trunk,

and maybe join Triple A before your car goes clunk, clunk.

That's all Folks!

Love, Dianne 

PS: This is what happens when you don't sleep after night shift...poetry. Or such as it is.