NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
By Josie Whitehead
‘Twas the night before Christmas and down came the rain
And our long drive to Granny’s could well be a strain.
Our new car was packed with some gifts of the best
And we knew, with this journey we wouldn’t be stressed.
The clock hands were pointing to quarter to five
And we thought we’d start early for our lengthy car drive.
We were all sitting comfortably and Dad turned the key
But our new car stayed silent - as silent could be.
Dad looked at the engine and felt quite perplexed:
'It’s as dead as a dodo,' - so what to do next?
So we all piled outside and then somebody said:
'I think we should go in our Morris instead.'
So we woke our old Morris and all climbed inside
And heads turn, you know, as we drive him with pride.
We were warm and were cosy as we jogged off to Gran’s
For an old Morris Minor never scuttles one’s plans.
Copyright on all my poems
True story? I'm afraid not, but I had my Morris for many years and aged 55 years I sold it with a mileage of 66,500 miles - and it never let me down once.