Lines Upon A Railway Station Poem by Kevin Hulme

The Humble Station that I can see
Bare the insipid face of Modernity,
For the larger Town or City may
Have Victorian flair to its display.
But here in Village or lonely Halt
The Designers craft is so at fault,
A Prefab Box in all but name
And Metal Seats complete the shame.
But in the grand old days of Steam
As a Poets eye had often seen,
Were Stations built in Grandiose Style
Along the Veins of the British Isle.
‘Mock Tudor' built astride the line,
Adornments of a bygone time,
When across the Platform Porters fly
Their loaded barrows rumbled by,
And keeping vigil down the Rail
For the Whistles Howl and the morning mail.
To the ‘Waiting Room' a Traveler's rest
As Vintage Posters do suggest,
‘See Britain by Train' a short invite,
Art Deco scenes of radiant light.
All works of Art, a bright display,
Of The Yorkshire Dales or Whitley Bay.
And Station Master watch in hand
Surveys his lot prepared and manned,
For here the Engine Spouting Steam
A Thundercloud upon the scene.
So; nothing is left from those Romantic days
A time of elegant travelling ways,
A time when rolling Country Wide
Was joy itself when Steam applied.
For the ‘Golden Age' as often classed,
Were days of grace now sadly passed,
But as for Modern Stations per se,
I'm sure Sir John would have his say.