Curtis Moorman Poet Rhyme

My Old Ford

MY OLD FORD


I once had a '50 Ford
I bought it just because I was bored
It had been setting in a farmer's field
Where it had stopped and wouldn't yield

I hooked it behind Pa's old pickup truck
And out across the field I struck
Headed for the shade-tree mechanic's house
Knowing he would cuss and grouse

I parked this junk heap in his yard
He grumbled and sputtered long and hard
But went to work on it with skillful cunning
Certain that he could get it running

Get it running is what he did
I tell you, I nearly flipped my lid
My friends and I, all that summer
Rode the dirt roads in that little hummer

Until one day, it finally quit
And we knew that was the last of it
So I dragged it back to the farmer's field
Where it still sets and will not yield


	28 August 2011

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Andrea Dietrich August 28, 2011 at 11:19 PM this is a wonderful little poem about an old Ford. very nostalgic feel to it. Hope you had a great weekend, Curtis! Curtis Moorman August 29, 2011 at 1:15 AM Andrea: Thanks for your comment. It is one of those true stories that sounds totally unbelievable. I just love being a poor boy from the South who knows how to take "nothing" and make it into "something" and have fun doing it.