Here I am; waiting,
Waiting for an old friend
On a deserted Railway Station.
She’s late; knew she would be.
Time behaves differently in
Such public places; very differently.

I stood waiting alone,
Then a gaggle of women
Clattered up the subway.
Stilettos and thick, heeled boots,
Beating out an echoing tattoo,
On the broad, concrete steps.

Now we wait together,
Myself and a Hen Party.
Blending of emotional alloys
Fused together, forming
Excitement; then I see her
And all heads turn to look.

Amongst the flower boxes,
Silence blossoms on the
Platform as my old friend
Glides serenely into the station,
She’s late; knew she would be
Even so, she’s on time for me.

Steam unfurls around her,
Billowing majestic clouds
Crowning this, ‘Queen of
The Rails’, last seen when
I was a boy, now in manhood
Her unsung glory is truly revered.

Steel wheels clatter, a rhythmic
Tattoo, then she draws to a halt.
Old friend from a previous age
Escaping through to this century,
Thronged by beautiful women, I
Smile, and step aboard a true beauty.

©Paul M Chafer 2014