POEM - Flaming George . . . I mean Gorge

I didn’t go to the cabin

Nearly as much as the cousins

They lived just down the mountain

But I loved it there

Whenever we got to go

To see my grandparents

After they left the SoCal hustle

And adopted the slower pace

And the quite life

Of a place off the beaten path

But we never really change

Wherever we are we are who we are

See, things are funny in my family

Everything is funny

And grandpa loved his words

So he called the place wrong

Whenever grandma was around

Told us we were going to Flaming George

Then grandma would slap him

Roll her eyes and say Oh Don!

And he’d apologize

            I’m sorry; that’s Gorge. Flaming Gorge

Just in time to begin his dam jokes

As we drove down the dam road

To cross the big dam

And see all the dam water

Flowing into the dam river

Wave to the dam people

And have a fun dam time!

The further he stretched it

The less of a pun it was

Until he said one that really was a curse

And my grandma would roll her eyes

For the fourteenth time

Just during the ten minutes it took

To get down to where the rafts launched

And it wouldn’t be long

Until the rafting was done

Or the cliff diving was over

And the exploring was suspended

At least until tomorrow

And we’d all return to the cabin

To be together

Play games and laugh

Hear more puns

            And exaggerate our groans

Because that last one

            Well, it was actually kind of funny