Tis The Season
 

For my brothers in northern lands, oh how I remember,
Hide their Boxsters during winter, on this first day December…


Winter hath my nine-eight-six, absence sheen,
Freezing leather felt, what dark days seen;

For thee, remembrance of the past driving year,
December, Boxster bareness now everywhere;

Yet this time removed it will be spring time,
Bearing the Porsche badge, Boxster at its prime;

Today the paint pale, dread the winter’s near,
Tuned exhaust notes that sang, 'tis now with dull cheer;

Thou Boxster away, thy exhaust echoes mute,
Longing for warmth, beaches, women in swim suit;

Yet abundant cold and scarce driving seems to me,
Occasion for Porsche dreams, mods, until new driving pleasures return to thee.

Thank you for the great poem Jager ! (aka the lost Bronte brother)

Thank you for feeling my pain,
Although you had nothing to gain...:ah:

Makes me feel a bit guilty for not washing her this weekend. It was "too cold" at about 71 degrees. ;)