To Grandmother's House We Go Poem by C.Ann Penning

Alluring me in with his silly little grin
Trapped as the door scurried me in
His asserting voice hurried me about
I’ve deadlines to meet on this route

Wading through stench and missing teeth
Heart pounding, scuffling to my seat
Would I make it to grams in this lion’s den
Or be eaten alive, never seen again?

Catapulted into the back of the seat ahead
My nose all bruised, crunched and blood-red
Ya best hold on, this ride’s a bit of a thrill
A voice bellowed from the back that gave me a chill

Avoiding all traffic rules the driver sped forward
Nails gripping the seat as the motor roared
Both my feet firmly embedded into the floor

With its climbs and dives, to sudden turns
Horns blaring as we burst through caverns
Bubbling to the surface in these testy conditions
Prayers to make it safely to all our destinations

Stomach inside out with each sudden drop
Thank God gram lives over the next hilltop!
All the joy and anticipation that filled me before
Was left on the pavement when I came aboard

My heart explodes as I safely arrive
Staggering off I can’t believe I’m alive
So many violations in a ride so short
I’ve a list a mile long I intend to report

This ride to grams I did not like
Perhaps next time I’ll ride my bike