Tag Archives: #trains

Downhill All The Way

From London

to Cornwall

it’s downhill

all the way;

apart from

the lightening

of our souls

and the growing joy

in our hearts.

Whilst Out Walking… on a Potentially Perfect Friday Morning (Sept 29th)

Whilst Out Walking…
On a Potentially Perfect Friday Morning
Which is most unlikely.
Although, what is perfect for one

Is an absolute disaster for another one

And one man’s bumper is another man’s fender 

(Or gender).
I have no foreknowledge of my thoughttrains – there is no schedule to follow

And no stations to climb on or off at.

(Embark or disembark, methinks).
Perhaps, I just travel along and wherever it stops is where I lay my hat.
I have hats.
But, not at this moment. 
Which is why I write upon these lines.
And miss the points.
(Just trying to think of some more railway things.)
No, I appear to have run out of steam.
Ha! The Steam-of-Consciousness writing is a carriage to carry my words quickly through the countryside.
And, only stopping to take on water, I provide a first (more likely a ‘third’) class service as I roll along with my stock rolling with me.
“Fares fair!”

Totton Railway Station

Totton - as it says on the sign.

Totton – as it says on the sign.

Totton Railway Station
It is but a little station

“The train arriving at Platform 1 is going East…
Platform 2 if you wish to go West.”

The direction is up to you
To choose
To go
To where
You want to be
Just buy a ticket and be gone
Upon a train travelling stately along the right lines.

So, from the little station
Three stops West of the city
(If you are on the ‘stopping’ train)
You can depart at will
And the world
Is your oyster.

Monday Morning Railway Platform Poem #1

It was just like this

It was just like this – not!

Upon the platform
I form a plan
Because, I ‘am’ that sort of man.
It’s not a plan of any scope
It is to board the ‘next’ train
Which is mine, I hope.
Not ‘actually’ mine
That would be silly
I have nowhere to keep it
Though I suppose if I could borrow a siding somewhere
I could stay there
And live on board
In 1st class
What a jape
A wheeze
Or a similar old-fashioned term.

Have you got a long-term plan for the future?

My ‘Adlestrop’ Sequence (Extended)

Adlestrop 9th July, 2015 - photograph courtesy of Jane Goldsack Adlestrop 9th July, 2015 – photograph courtesy of Jane Goldsack

A Sequence in homage to Edward Thomas’ Adlestrop

Like a Bullet Train
Through the heart of my country:
Your words travelled at speeds
Beyond my belief.

On the surface, overland
They said one thing;
But, they were saying something
Deeper, darker, underneath.

I felt their bite
As they hurtled through my station;
And, although they failed to stop,
Their passing left me changed,
Like Adlestrop.


You are not really a poet
Unless you’ve been to Adlestrop;
It’s an old, abandoned station,
Where the trains don’t stop;
So, don’t think you’re smart
With your beat-box rhymes
And your new hip-hop;
Because, you are really ‘not’ a poet
Until you’ve been to Adlestrop.


I Stopped at Adlestrop
For a very short while
Had to clear some memory on my phone
In order to capture the moment
And then someone else needed to stop there
For a photographic potpourri;
And the bees buzzed,
And carried on their way;
As I carried on mine,
After an all-to-short stop
At a place with a name
And a bench with a poem upon it.

Edward’s Adlestrop has changed,
As everything does in time,
No train stopped
Or pulled away
From Adlestrop
On that sunny July day.



Adlestrop by Edward Thomas
Yes. I remember Adlestrop

The name, because one afternoon

Of heat, the express-train drew up there

Unwontedly. It was late June.
The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.

No one left and no one came

On the bare platform. What I saw

Was Adlestrop—only the name
And willows, willow-herb, and grass,

And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,

No whit less still and lonely fair

Than the high cloudlets in the sky.
And for that minute a blackbird sang

Close by, and round him, mistier,

Farther and farther, all the birds

Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.
Return to Adlestrop – Graeme Sandford


I can’t sell you a ticket to Adlestrop!
There’s no station there, and the train won’t stop
It’s been a long time since Adlestrop
was there at all, There’s no way you’ll be reaching
that destination, since Beeching removed the station.
He took out the heart of the railway nation – seemingly with elation.


I can do you a return to Kingham
or Moreton in Marsh, sir.
But there’s nothing closer
I know it’s harsh
to lose such a place,
it’s a proper disgrace,
almost an ‘improper’ disgrace,
and you can tell I’m upset
by the look on my face.


(On the Platform, On the Train) on Writing Poetry

This is a random platform - other platforms are available.

This is a random platform – other platforms are available.

Sat on the bench of the platform at the railway station
Writing random poetry
As I do.

Then, stood in the corridor of a busy train on my way to work
Writing random poetry
As I do.

Then, driving off to far offish office lands for to carry out my chores
Not writing, but thinking;
Drowning in my random poetry
That is my lot
What’s yours?

Dogs on Trains (You’ve got to believe them)

Vega, 1st Class Passenger.

Vega, 1st Class Passenger.

I’m looking out the window
At the cows going by
I’m on the train to somewhere
But, I really don’t know why.

Because, I’m a dog of leisure
With all the world to see
Travelling’s a pleasure
As I travel First Class style – comfy!

There’s no rubbing shoulders with the smelly hoi-polloi
I have the greatest leg room of them all;
And no-one else I’ve seen has had a tickle of their tum;
If only one would stop and throw my ball.

Train travel, first class,
I’ll always recommend
Just bring a human with you
‘They’ have much more fun when they travel with a friend.