When in front it's a Frunk,
This cavernous trunk,
Yet when it's in rear,
It's just space for our gear.
And the box on each side,
Simply lets stuff reside,
Without fanfare or fame,
As it too lacks a name.
Why is it that rear trunks,
Aren't labeled as Runks?
And shouldn't our side trunks,
Be Left and Right Sunks?
And although it's quite small,
It as well serves us all,
So doesn't the glove box,
Deserve the name Glox?
Let's give equal respect,
As we stop to reflect,
On these marvels of storage,
Sans which we would forage,
For spots good enough,
To stash all of our stuff!
Wendy's winter cranial meanderings in MI
This cavernous trunk,
Yet when it's in rear,
It's just space for our gear.
And the box on each side,
Simply lets stuff reside,
Without fanfare or fame,
As it too lacks a name.
Why is it that rear trunks,
Aren't labeled as Runks?
And shouldn't our side trunks,
Be Left and Right Sunks?
And although it's quite small,
It as well serves us all,
So doesn't the glove box,
Deserve the name Glox?
Let's give equal respect,
As we stop to reflect,
On these marvels of storage,
Sans which we would forage,
For spots good enough,
To stash all of our stuff!
Wendy's winter cranial meanderings in MI