The Fox and the Ferrari

Flat wedge on four wheels, streamlined and gleaming,

Painted and tinted, preened to perfection;

Majestic motor - innocent seeming,

A mechanical marvel confection.

*

Sits in the showroom placidly waiting,

Patiently pining for customers key,

For release of the road - cogitating

On pulsing pistons soon setting him free.

*

Out in the street he often sees flashing

Forbears of his race all racing along,

Many of these with their engines thrashing,

Clashing and crashing in senile song.

*

But muffled and muted to him within,

Like watching a movie through tinted glass,

With volume turned down to a background din,

Cars but characters that constantly pass.

*

Then into the showroom, cat like, glancing,

Coolly sufficient in credit card bliss,

Moving in motion almost like dancing,

Walk waltzes magnificent mink bound miss.

*

She pout-purrs to the salesmen that tend 'er,

"If it's not a Ferrari forget it!"

To themselves they all think "feel my fender",

But they know they would live to regret it.

*

Sleekly she slides to his side, steel and stealth,

The Ferrari now forms her reflection;

She wantonly wages a war on her wealth

As his chassis now forms her protection.

*

Ignition obtained - engine ignited,

As they fun-thunder away out of sight,

And both beaming and both so excited -

In transport of delight!

*                                                                                  
                               

S.R.L.