Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Mom, when are we going to get there? 
This trip seems awful slow. 
I’m getting awful tired now, 
And thirsty, I’m letting you know. 

I’ll be so tired when I get there, 
That I will be about to drop. 
Is it at the top of that mountain 
Where we are going to stop? 

Let’s sing some songs, Mom says 
That will give us a joyful grin. 
We don’t have to sit here 
Being quiet as a pin. 

We can play a game 
In order to pass the time. 
I spy a red car; will the next one 
Be yours or mine? 

Then you can sit back 
And take a little nap. 
Our destination then will come 
Seeming like we hit it with a zap. 

When our trip is over, 
And we then come to a stop, 
We will have had so much fun 
And won’t be feeling ready to drop. 

© Copyright 1999.08.01 by Jean E. Gorney