Whenever I'm touring Alluring Broad highways Or asphalted by-ways Through countrysides sweet, With motor that's humming And thrumming I know that In time, as I go, that I'm certain to meet The sign that is legion whatever the region, The sign that means language impure, The sign that disperses your patience in curses; @2"DETOUR!"@1 Detour! Go round through a bog and a moor! Go over a mountain, go down a ravine And follow a rabbit's track over the scene; Go ford a swift river—and ten miles beyond Bump over a pasture and ooze through a pond; Oh, this is a sign it is hard to endure @2"DETOUR!"@1 "Detour via Hicksville To Cricksville And Jaytown" —Or some far-away town That's not on the map; And then when you get there You're met there With placards That tell Fords or Packards "Detour to South Yap!" The roadways are racking, your bones all are cracking, Your springs are deformed beyond cure, You somehow keep driving—and find, on arriving @2"DETOUR!"@1 Detour! The landmarks grow fewer and fewer; Detour over cowpaths, detour over sand, Detour over trails that are seemingly planned As mud-baths and swimmingholes, lost and uncharted. You finally get to the place where you started! Oh, this is the motorist's nightmare for sure, @2"DETOUR!"@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CRYSTAL GAZER by SARA TEASDALE LACHRYMAE MUSARUM (THE DEATH OF TENNYSON) by WILLIAM WATSON TWO WOMEN by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS IN REMEMBRANCE by ADRA CAROLINE BATCHELDER PSALM 1; DONE INTO VERSE 1653 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE THREE SAD SHEPPARDESSES, GOE TO A LITTLE TABLE, WHERE THEY SINGE by ELIZABETH BRACKLEY |