Albert Martin


Night Train - Poem by Albert Martin

I made the woods my home
When I first came here
There was no town
That I hadn't roamed

There was an ancient man whom they
Used to call Ramblin' Bob
He used to have a farm
Where I started my first job

Smoke gets higher and higher
And the wistle blows
And gets a wistled sound
Tomorrow we'll be at the place
Where this night train it is bound

Gods must let the sun, my little daughter
Gods must let the sun go down
Cause tonight we'll sit by the water
and then we'll see the lights of our town

Smoke gets higher and higher
And the wistle blows
And gets a wistled sound
Tomorrow we'll be at the place
Where this night train it is bound

Do not tell the mountain a word
Do not tell her where you go
When you are climbing it up
Be sure that she'll already know

Smoke gets higher and higher
And the wistle blows
And gets a wistle sound
Tomorrow we'll be at the place
Where this night train it is bound.


Comments about Night Train by Albert Martin

  • Veteran Poet - 1,076 Points Albert Martín (7/6/2015 4:52:00 AM)

    Thanks for comment Kaila. I'm glad you like it. (Report) Reply

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  • Freshman - 849 Points Kaila George (12/15/2014 5:21:00 PM)

    I so enjoyed reading this particular poem, reminded me of one I wrote awhile back, called the Train ride, the flow l lead from one stanza to the next and joy of being with nature and your child is there in your poem....bravo...lovely write sir, thank you for sharing this with us. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, May 11, 2013

Poem Edited: Wednesday, July 29, 2015


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