Family Road Trip Poem

I have been following the blog of the Stevens' mini-van journey across the west. It reminds me of our own mini-van travels, though we have two children, while the Stevens have four. Their daily accounts are informative, amusing and well illustrated. I was inspired to dredge up an old poem I wrote about our own summer wanderings back during my poet phase (my rhymey timey). Here 'tis.

The open road beckons our car along.
The driver is weary but still going strong.
Our boys are down for their third nap today.
They know the motel’s still hours away.

It’s a routine we go through some time each year.
Time to go somewhere, somewhere but here.
To Disneyworld, to Yellowstone, to Kentucky, to Maine,
Past Boston, Detroit, the Soo and Fort Wayne.

We’ve hit the road for ten years and more,
Since our oldest was six, the youngest just four.
To enjoy theme parks and caves, and beaches’ wet sand,
From wilderness trails to mountains so grand.

We’ve not done it all, but we’ve sure done enough
Just to see our brochures and matchbooks and stuff.
But our family trips are nearing an end
With one boy a senior and college to attend.

He’ll likely spend summers and breaks on his own,
As boys tend to do, when they are grown—
Just as they got used to traveling far
Without the sibling warfare, since brothers they are.

Then it’ll be three, but for only so long.
Then it’ll be two just cruising along.
Should we then fly by plane to the Rome and Madrids?
Or just hit the road, this time with grandkids?