Short Convertible Poems

It’s a convertible, dude
It’s a hot rod, dude
It’s red, dude
It’s a hot, hot rod...

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hot convertible
zipping down highway
sun to the breeze



posted on April 19, 2019...

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red convertible
whipping down the highway
~ blur of summer past



posted on July 15, 2018...

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beautiful spring day
I need a convertible
driving the fast lane
playing seventies music
loving beach boys on fire...

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Red dress
Dress impress
Freedom new
New pew
Fast freedom fire
Fire tire
Sky open
Open oven
Corps Vettie
Vettie Chevy...

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A lady I know,
Out in New Mexico,
Befriended a calico dragon.
She used to haul him around
Old Santa Fe town,
In her convertible Ford station wagon...

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Open-top convertible 
Zooming along
Highway 61
Dylan on the radio 
Chasing the American Dream. 

        W.A. CHOLT.  Copyright Fergal O Reilly  2018....

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fast convertible
hair to the wind
fleeting summer rays



submitted on June 2, 2020 for contest FRESH HAIKU sponsored by JCB BURL  -  HONORABLE MENTION...

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A convertible Will bought in town.
It got locked, keys inside. Like a clown,
for help, Will then stopped
a cop, whose jaw dropped.
Will’s convertible’s top was still down!

May 15, 2023

for Tania Kitchin's  the 'Funny, Bawdy or Humorous Limerick ' Poetry Contest...

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I'm motoring about with my top down.
I'm getting strange looks, but never a frown. 
Ladies eyes go green and mens’ chins drop.
Until it clouds over and I have to stop.
I press a little harder and up it comes,
as the first drops of rain begin to drum.
It lands with a click and on we go.
Me and my darling convertible Peugeot....

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Car                       classic
                 roof opened
                  feeling the breeze
                  on a humid day
                 It is very cooling
                 on a sticky scorching day
                 enjoying the convertible
                 as we travel along the dirt road
                 to the beach where the antique show is...

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I try to inhale, 
But I am choking,
From this smog veil,
That is overbearing.

Is the city sick?
Is it dying?
From pollutants so thick,
And the kids now crying.

We've started down,
A path irreversible,
Cars we all own,
Is the earth worth a convertible?

Can I find a place,
Where I can breathe,
Without this poison in my face,
Only fresh air can relieve....

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A girl.
A boy.
A Ford convertible.
His mom’s rose bushes.

To please her,
he cut the flowers
and filled his car to the brim
with his mom’s roses.

He came to call,
rag top down,
backseat overflowing
with his mom’s roses.

She acquiesced
gave him a kiss,
filled her bath tub
with his mom’s roses.

She never learned
his consequence,
only knew she reveled
in his mom’s roses....

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I ran to the gorgeously designed convertible
to see if it was wearing a wrap
“It is original paint,” the owner told me.
He was an artist, covered in paint.
I wanted to go for a ride
She was so beautiful in her fuchsias, yellows and limes.
“She is a delight,” I told him. “like a gorgeous painting.”
“Do you want a ride?” he asked me.
Boy, did I, but I said no.
Pretending to be normal for a change....

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The bright red convertible

 His midlife-crisis-mobile.

  Traded his faithful pick-up truck

 For newer wheels.

  Traded his faithful wife

  For not as new mistress.

 Changing his life , he said,

  Changing everyone elses too.

  Trying to recapture a youth

  He had only had in dreams.

  Bright red convertible.

  The midlife-crisis-mobile.

  He should be happy now

  But was he?...

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Highway One California

Lovely and so cooling, was driving my 
1956 Chevy Bel-Aire ragtop!
Its whitewall tires, its heavenly hubcaps.
Just stunningly gleaming!
That magnificent red and white convertible!
With joys, so profoundly thrilling!


June 2, 2019
7pm PST

               _____
Dedicated  to my parents,  who gave me  this 
car on my birthday. Thanks, Mom and Dad for 
letting me "Drive My Dream!"


...

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I remember
The bittersweet joy
Of my fifth birthday

I remember 
Blowing out the candles and wishing with all my might
For my Dad to come home

I remember 
Astonishment and shock
With heart-stopping joy

I remember
Him racing down the hill
In a bright red convertible

I remember
Him walking through the door
Sailing bags in tow

I remember
Running to him
Clinging to him and crying on his shirt

I remember
Him coming home......

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The redwoods’ fairy ring, wall in a family secret
Only, not all roots dig as deep…
Parched, some shrivel, loosening the circlet

Shush….the tallest ones whisper steep
Elegance alas, the needy ones, have lost…
Chafed, bitter barks scatter cones they can’t keep

Raging fires sear heartwood of dearest cost
Enduring burns gape trunk-wide scars…
The remnant wall shrinks tauter, visible as vapored frost


(10/2/20: '87 Tiara 3600 Convertible; DMS)...

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Mr. and Mrs. O were on a ride traveling down Route 66.
The car was a convertible, doing forty, without any tricks.
An August day with the sun streaming down on their necks.
I love the way the sun looks, she has such beautiful flecks!

Ostriches United were waiting for these two to arrive.
They would be at the convention by a quarter to five.
We’re having a fine time! Said Mrs. To her husband Latimore.
But if you let me drive, honey, we could be there by four....

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A depersonalized holocaust slowly proceeds
Under convertible assuaged currency
Separate disparate lives, anonymous dredging
Tear against the land, air, and crawling

Human hands finalized the creed
Scourging banks to let the biosphere bleed
Recognizing no natural dignity
Expect that converted into commodified property

Distraction allows us to peel away
Taking the mind narrower still
And filling the void with caramelized exchanges
Simply  look away
The slave servitude continues...

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Oh, how I longed to be popular 
back then!
Tell the truth,I was miserable 
as a wet hen.
Was my hair right, did I have 
any horrid pimples?
Never realizing how slim I was 
and had the cutest, sweet,
attractive dimple!
I even had a brand new red and 
white convertible.
But this "popularity" thing was 
truly incorrigible.
That feeling to be part of the top 
group still remains.
Decades, later, I still feel like a 
caboose on the back of a train.

               7/3/2021...

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I am a cute girl
I wonder why the sky is blue
I hear a star twinkling bright
I see a pig flying far away
I want a '61 Ford Mustang Convertible
I am a cute girl

I pretend I am an adult
I feel likeness for the Lochness Monster
I touch the sun
I worry about dying
I cry when I don't get my way
I am a cute girl

I understand flings don't last forever
I say drugs mess you up
I dream about having a boyfriend
I try to get good grades
I hope someday I will be married
I am a cute girl...

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