Just another Monday morning
Nothing to fuss about
No troubles ahead
Nothing but blue skies
And not ‘too’ hot.
So, I’m sat on the bench at the railway station once more. A week’s work is ahead of me and I am fashionably early for the train. It is quiet to a degree and I am the first one here for the Waterloo service (not a euphemism) stopping at Southampton, Southampton Airport (Parkway), Eastleigh, and so on.
Distant seagulls are busy practicing for a Wagnerian opera performance; whilst freight and early commuters are droning along the nearby A35 creating a continuous band of FM road noise.
It is quite chill and still the day retains an element of the night. The sky is a blanket of one shade of the colour grey, it may be that there is not a cloud in the sky – we must wait and see, it could just be awaiting the starter-motor of the Sun to give it a blue blush.
Posted in Blog, Monday Morning, Off to Work, poem, Poetry, railway, Totton
Tagged #Blog, #MondayMorning, #Railway, #Totton, #trainstation, Poem, Poetry
It was just like this
The times they are a-changing
And the platforms, too
An announcement is made
And the herd for that journey
Up sticks and move from 4a to 3
For the 18:10 that is already nine minutes late
People with suitcases and bags, children, bikes and more
Climb the steps to try and reach the promised land
Whilst I almost miss my trusty steed
Because of 18:19 poem-writing
That is over-running due to task-in-hand
And will have to be finished-
Not for my journey
I was considering train times
As a possible source of rhymes
But, I think I missed the boat on that one, alas
I thought I’d pen a few lines in my compartment
Upon my carriage and deportment
But, I am a bit of a slob when it comes to class
I was almost derailed by the thought of a buffet trolley
But, missed the points of going the whole nine railway yards; what a wally.
I am in training.
I know not
That would be my destination.
Just the ticket!
Reading between the lines
Upon the railway track
I never noticed the locomotive’s
Breath upon my back
I failed to factor in the danger
Of my interest in reading
Whilst nestled in the pathway
Of a steam-engine unheeding
Don’t run me down, you iron horse,
Don’t insist I pay the fare
For travelling incognito
To a destination where
I can strum my harp
Or stoke the fires
Or linger in between
With the tracks of my tears
To remember me by