Back in the days when semaphore
Supremely ruled the rail
Lamp lads climbed to trim the lamps
Before their flame could fail
Each signal had its cables
With rods back to the box
Where signal men pull levers
After taking off their locks
With lots of bells and ringing
As he tapped the next train through
The kettle boils to fill his can
In time to make a brew
The last tap was his signal
Wind wheel and close the gate
It’s the early morning mail train
Bang on time and never late
Were lives then so much harder?
Did bosses seem to mean
Or was it so much better
When we had a good routine
© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Do you remember that poem about the mail train? I come from a railway background so anything to do with trains appeals to me, this is very good David, thanks 10 Lynda xx