The Moonbeam Ride

Two hundred seconds and twenty-two ride that still linger for the strange lad.

'Twas close to midnight as I left
And walked the Crooklets road to town
With a cold sea-wind at my back
A sudden glow came shining down

It revealed a face I knew
I didn't want to walk alone
So I asked if I might be welcome
In your Moonbeam for the ride home

Coasting past the golf club
Too dark to ask her out to play
We passed the tandoori's dim-lit door
A dinner for another day

Up Lansdown Road's sharp, sweeping curve
Nearing the halfway mark
I planned my words with quiet care
To strike a gentle spark

Some say she is soft and folky
And some say she is mystic and bold
But to this humble, strange lad
She's a travelling woman with bangles of gold

Past the Bencoolen, into the dark
Down Stratton Road we glided through
At the roundabout, she turned to the right
Just two hundred seconds and twenty-two

She asked if she must stop the car
Or keep on driving far away
Like a song where I lay in a meadow
I don't know the answer to this day