I miss the swish
Of steam from trains
That used to thunder by,
And the mournful sound
That hung around,
The smoke that filled the sky.
The stokers there
And soot filled air
Are but a passing dream.
That's progress though,
And yet, you know,
I miss the 'swish' of steam.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So do I George, there's something about a steam engine that is irresistable. Absolute nostalgia. Those definitely were the days. I have written a poem about a steam engine, it's called 'The 6.15 from Paddington - Steam days' you might be interested. Sincerely Ernestine Northover.