Frustration at Itaska

A Sonnet

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Up to the North we go, the Land of Snow
Where Eagles soar high, and the Owls hoot after dark,
Where the Lakes are Blue, and the cold rivers flow,
Sits the famous Itaska. It’s a Beautiful, Bountiful State Park.

Entered the Gate anxious to see the mighty river’s source.
The East Entryway was miles away: Winding, Narrow, and Long.
Anxious to see the mighty Mississippi, encountered delay, Of Course!
Newlywed pair, Nose in the Air, is plodding slowly along.

Vacation, you know! Family in tow. Needing to make Time.
Labor Day crowd, Laughing and Loud, filled the Park today.
Groan, Gripe, Glower, 3 Mile Hour, is a thoughtless Crime.
A Twenty car row, Nowhere to go, Hours frittered away.

Horse drawn Carriage makes me Disparage its plodding pulling works.
The Oblivious Two, Terrible Traffic Queue, really are just Jerks.

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Synergy of Poetry and Verse. Author, Poet, Photographer

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