The Fourth Estate.
The first, green, solid,dependable.
It swallowed a family of five
leaving cavernous room to spare
for luggage of the vastitude
associated with a mother
who *must* take everything
'just in case'.
As it slid along the motorway
under starlight at over 100 miles
three children head to toe
lay in the back gazing up at the stars.
A proper beginning to any holiday.
Even when it was old
its front quarter replaced in a different colour
its fan belt disintegrating
it still got us wherever we were going
but not necessarily when we meant to
beige, shuddering always on the edge
of a breakdown.
Nothing solid here.
Needing different keys
for different doors,
it took us to another world
where drivers paled in a
support group of despair.
Then the red company car
unwanted but foisted on us
in an 'executive package'.
Better than nothing,
better than the last
at least it didn't threaten
nervous breakdowns all round.
The day we collected the fourth estate
was a proud moment.
We drove it to our friends house
and they joined us in admiring the
metallic violet, the smooth lines,
the futuristic dashboard,
the multi-variable seating.
That car was
a breath of fresh air.
It was a moment's work to
crash into the house,
a breeze to smash out the gatepost,
and thankfully easy to sell on.
I wonder if anyone can guess what makes models and eras are being described here?