Parking Cars

I've had a few car ports in my time, Where I'd regularly park my car. My car would fit each perfectly, Then I'd smoke a long cigar. All car ports were slightly different, With no two quite the same. I'd drive deftly, steering into each, I'd steady, line up and aim. Some car ports were overgrown, With plants and weeds and grass. Whilst others were mowed to the ground, And washed to a shiny glass. And each car port had a light switch to find, Somewhere in the dark. Sometimes I'd find it, sometimes not, Either way I had to park. I've had a few car ports in my day, They've all been a beautiful sight. I can't wait till I get home again, And park there for the night.