Winter Parking

When the plows have done their duty

And the snow has lost its beauty,

As it turns to slush and looks a dirty gray,

There's a scramble oh so brutal,

Which for many is quite futile,

Looking for a spot to stow their car away.

 

If the parking in the summer

Seems to be a lousy bummer,

In the winter it is surely ten times worse,

As the elements conspire

To destroy chassis and tire,

And you pay for parking with a shrinking purse.

 

Now the streets are lined with snow dunes,

And we are not humming show tunes,

As we try to find a spot that's close to home

That we do not have to pay for –

Even cynics now will pray for

Anything that doesn't leave them far to roam.

 

Once a spot has been bespoken

Should another make it broken

By inserting their own vehicle instead,

There will be a feud so brutal

That when Gabriel blows his tootle

Those involved will tell each other to 'drop dead.'

 

There's no parking in the city

That is not . . .  well, it's a pity

That I cannot use the language that I'd like;

But the moral here is certain

That more people should be flirtin'

With the bus or train or even motorbike!