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Wrinkled On the Road

My friend had miles of highway ‘Til she’d reach her new abode So she needed to be up and out Before a rooster crowed. To help her get an early start And not be somehow slowed, She went to bed already dressed In all-out travel mode. I heard about this plan of hers And my confusion showed. I told her she’d be wrinkled And her laughter freely flowed. I guess no matter what we wear, We share a certain code, For age has guaranteed we’re always Wrinkled on the road.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 12/15/2022 12:25:00 PM
Cute as can be. At least it's about clothing and not the face.
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Date: 12/15/2022 11:26:00 AM
:))) ... anything to save time ... I couldn't sleep with my clothes on, Ilene :) - hugs
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Date: 12/14/2022 8:43:00 PM
They haven't invented the right type of iron for our wrinkles llene. Loved your poem.
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Date: 12/14/2022 11:21:00 AM
Lol, well it would certainly save her twenty minutes at least. Tom
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Date: 12/14/2022 11:10:00 AM
Ouch! The truth does hurt. That's not a bad travel-related idea, however. Love the rhyme scheme, Ilene.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things