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Swindon ******

Swindon used to be a working railway town

the works then dominated our lives.

Covering so much land under the bridges

most of the jobs were within.

In those days the ****** was our alarm clock

bringing them to work in a flock.

 

Three ****** blasts echoed over the wide area

we all relied on that sound.

Part of our lives to us a unique local feature

on the third ****** you were late.

In the works most had a relation past on present

at home time avoiding the bikes an event.

 

The ****** was silenced when it was closed down

sites and sounds changed there after.

New Swindon was built specifically for the railway

greatly missed since it went away.

 

 

The Foureyed Poet.

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Written by
malcolm-terence-gould
English
Published
Jan 17, 2012
Lines·Words
17·124
Notes

Nothing lasts forever certain memories linger on and will always be missed. The Foureyed Poet.

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