The 6.15 from Paddinton goes chugging down the track,
The Guard blows on his whistle, and the engine whistles back.
The carriages are following, swaying as they go,
The passengers are also swaying to and fro.
Through Maidenhead, Reading and Newbury in Berks,
The monster travels onwards, with steam, grey smoke and sparks.
Past Swindon down in Wiltshire and then Chipping Sodbury,
Through tunnels, over bridges, always in a 'big' hurry.
The countryside goes whooshing by, as we travel on,
With fields, lanes and cottages, one moment seen, then gone.
Villages, farms and valleys, tree clad hills and downs,
Flashing past the windows, with 'swishy swooshy' sounds.
It now approaches Bristol, the driver applies the brakes,
With screeching and with creaking, what a hullabaloo it makes.
It's reached it's destination where the Porter and the Clerk,
Will check on all the passengers, before they disembark.
The loud station announcer declares she's the next train out,
The fireman stokes the boiler, and the green flag's waved about.
The train is off and whistles, as it thunders out of view,
The trails of smoke are lifting and the sun is breaking through.
The 6.15 from Paddington is now on her way to Wales,
To Cardiff and to Swansea, for the shops and summer sales.
How is it Ernestine that you seem to be able to hold a precious moment almost in your hand.A beautiful bird of somekind that feeds from your words and our eyes glance. Knowing that as it flies away so that others may see it's beauty, so also it will return to you with food to feed you and so much more than you thought you had offered it.Beautiful words from a beautiful poetic bird in flight.Love Duncan
I've taken this London to Cardiff train many times, although not in the age of steam. A lovely poem that conjures up the age of steam admirably though. The days when a long journey like this was a real adventure rather than the routine journey it is nowadays. A nicely paced poem too that uses a lot of word patterns to create the feel of a moving train.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The old days of steam recaptured by your lovely flowing words. Great write. Andrew x