Nostalgia in Bloom

Book me in to the best hotel you can imagine,
a real dive, somewhere special, it’s unimportant
because I’m coming to get you –
listen out for the gravel under the tyre
of my old Karman Ghia,
revived, for the purpose of this trip -
post-box red, 1965.
I’ll have polished the curves,
packed a picnic under the hood,
and she’ll purr along the open road,
stop, in those traditional neighbourhoods
where I am yours - and you,
you are mine. So book me in my love,
and we’ll go slow enough to see the bees kiss
the pink almond scent of springtime blossom,
slow enough to remember each time
we have felt anything quite like this.

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