The Electric Train Set Poem by Terry Collett

The electric train set
Was laid out upstairs
in a large room
in your cousin’s house.

It compared unfairly
with your own
hand wound train set
at home, shut up in a box.

Your cousin pushed buttons
and the train and carriages
raced around
the long winding track
as you both looked on,
each with your own
deep down thoughts
and boyish dreams.

No labour involved,
no fingers needed
to wind the train,
no small circle
of metal track
as yours had at home,
but a room spread of track
in wider circle
from here, there and back.

You eyed your cousin’s train set
with a mixture
of envy and awe
as you watched it
race speedily around the floor.