Sonnet 311
Oh, roadster mine, so powerful, so swift,
I love to hear your engine sing its song.
While Others chide, "Of senses you're berift.",
I choose you for my trips, both short and long.
You stop, you go, you back, you turn with ease,
Those Others never understand our fun,
And when I stow your top to catch the breeze,
They watch with envy as we greet the sun.
You age with grace, a feast for classic eye.
Your simple, rugged heart beats strong and true.
While parts for you are sometimes very high,
to have you sitting, broken, leaves me blue.
And if that day arrives when we must part,
a bit of you will stay within my heart.
Leisure Suit Terry
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