The tour bus was full of ashtrays
but no one smoked,
when I lit up a cigar
the bus stopped
I was told to leave unless
the landscape was flat and very hot,
the majority won.
We aged, were going to Granada
to see and feel Moorish culture,
from the time when Arab Muslims ruled
and there was peace and tolerance in Spain,
sadly hostile Christianity muscled in,
wars, mayhem and intolerance followed.
We marveled, such beautiful photogenic buildings
and cameras clicked.
Later we watched flamenco dancers doing their turn
drank sangria and got giggly.
After supper, ten o’clock
it was time for bed,
early start back to Portugal next morning.
My wife would have none of it,
dragged me to a nightclub
where we danced till first light
and walked hand in hand in a romantic park.
“Rest we can do in our grave she says:
and I, but for my feet, agree.