Zap That Ticket

It's    Z time in ABC Wednesday group. I once-in-a-while crash this fun group to explore the creative (or primitive) talent I have in poetry. Writing poetry forces me to write with much thought instead of just nagging. 

Well, I am still nagging this time with some kind of a rhyme.

Today's letter is the letter Z.

Zestful and refreshed, I was jogging this morning behind the volleyball club where my daughter was

Zephyr touched my face as I ran, how fun that was

Zany, I must have looked as I smiled by myself . . . but . . . 

Zestful, I was not anymore when I finished circling the block. I got upset

Zipless and angry, I saw a cop was writing me a parking ticket (he then pointed to a Fire Lane sign)

Zap! That's what I want to do . . . to that ticket and  partly tree-covered sign  (it did not matter, he still handed me the ticket)

Zin is what I need to drink to get over this $125 ticket.