#railway
The children, three
Named Faraday
From Three Chimneys
They did come
They befriended railway porter
The signalman and guard
Even Dr Forest
and the old man from the train
All became their friends at last
Those little children, three
Three they were
Roberta, Phyllis and Peter
They saved a train of passengers
A Russian and a Hound.
Nov 27, 2025
Nov 27, 2025 at 7:22 PM UTC
In emerald seas where shadows play,
Steel ribbons thread the green ballet.
Through whispering pines and mossy glades,
A journey carved by human blades.
The iron serpents hum their tune,
A song that cuts through leafy dune.
Sunlight dances on rails' gleam,
In this hidden, tranquil dream.
Beneath the canopy, worlds collide,
Where nature and man in silence bide.
Tracks through forests' heart, profound,
In this sanctuary, our paths are found.
Aug 18, 2024
Aug 18, 2024 at 1:43 PM UTC
no matter how many times
i've crossed these tracks
nor how old i might now be
i will still feel
that childlike excitement
building within
as i look cautiously
left then right and
left then right again
just to be sure
before stepping across
that first metallic line
a symbol of both
danger and adventure
rechecking the signals
as i cross the second
i have never understood
what those lights tell
of the next train's progress
red yellow green
single or double
flashing or constant
no matter how clear
the tracks appear
the uncertainty of
what might soon be
unstoppably approaching
always sets me on edge
momentarily apprehensive
yet exhilarated by
each rushed step
Mar 19, 2024
Mar 19, 2024 at 3:35 PM UTC
Away, far away, and further still.
Beyond rumble and tremble and thrill,
where spies out of shadows hold no sway,
there lies a chamber of stone, with no bars, nor locks or divides.
Every evening,
my weary eyes rest upon the memory of time and its ever shifting, ever stalwart tides.
That is where my heart abides.
My heart resides just below the rusty rail.
Over a watchful window, a silky veil of green sunlight falls like a curtain of fleeting dreams and a blooming hazel tree beneath the frail mist conceals a passageway to emerald fields.
Each morning,
I am drawn nearer and nearer to you, for that is how my mind endures.
That is why my heart never yields.
Aug 11, 2021
Aug 11, 2021 at 12:07 PM UTC
The night sky enveloped our surroundings
Eating away the outside world
With a clang of metal
And a chug of smoke
We’re sent onto a new path
A new future
Full of what?
We’re not quite sure.
For just like the distant trees that get swooped up into the darkened night
Our home before and the knowledge of what’s to come get swooped up along with it
The unknown lurks
It’s precedence looming above us
Whether it be misfortune or something grander,
it’s impossible to tell
But the option for something better
Even just a little
Well it’s worth the wild ride
Looking out the window
I see those I left behind
home, Family, friends, prized possessions
All gone, lost in the darkened night
But in the end
while the unknown can be an incredible cruel mistress
she can also oh so very kind
And her taste of hope of something grander,
Well there’s simply nothing more divine
Dec 10, 2020
Dec 10, 2020 at 2:45 PM UTC
A Down the Railway Rhyme!
I walked the line
to where the steel once ran.
I walked the time line…
Where the rail gap clatter
gave way to wild bird chatter.
Where commuter crush
became deer grazing in a siding’s hush…
Wild flowers, weeds & shrubs
flourish where the occasional sleepers lay
and the odd rail cleat on the track bed ,
remind us where the rails once led,
till those who govern these things said…
Too expensive!…No more the train.
Let the trucks & roads take the strain.
Today… Nature’s Food Chain
replaces yesterday’s Freight Train
Wolf’s Bain and Wart’s Ease
instead of strap hanger’s
carriage squeeze…
meant kids would sit on their mother’s knees
Today there’s a diving Sparrow Hawk
where once 3rd Class picked up on small talk
and 1st was treated to business ‘squawk’.
The river & passing pastures have seen it all;
rail trade that kept a town alive
gives way to help the wildlife thrive.
Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 5:11 AM UTC
I want to go exploring in the deep green woods
Where the leaves shuffle past on your feet, on your toes
Where the yellow streetlights and the red ones fade
Deer graze in the cracks at Kensington Station
Birds nest between the wheels of the dead railway
I want your lips against mine in the silence
In these hollow spaces, the reclaimed world
Bark peeling, sprouts, on the wood house beams
Colour of rust and liveliness, womb of ours, heart of ours
Greenboro metal on the slatted tracks
Jul 16, 2020
Jul 16, 2020 at 11:18 AM UTC
A boy stares. His eyes,
wide with hunger.
His face streaked ageless,
with coal-tar dust
that has seeped
into his black skin.
As if his epidermis
was also scavenged
from the loading yards.
He stares across,
the rain drenched platform.
At people who arrive,
knowing that they can leave.
He looks at
unfolding umbrellas
reveal laden bodies.
At their luggage.
For signs of wealth,
for coins that may spill
like coal that drops
from the jostling of
overfed carriages.
He looks at bags on wheels
miniature carts,
like crude toys of yesterday
at people at play,
who leave behind
those that must yet carry
old bags like mules.
Where the weight
of each possession is
acutely felt
on the shoulders.
And he knows, as he looks
that the people at play
their belongings light
upon their writs are
those with coin
to spare.
But he holds
his hands out
to the others,
to the slow
plodding mule people.
Because his malnourished legs
(and this he knows too),
cannot keep up
with suitcases on wheels
long enough
to beg for a future.
Dec 17, 2019
Dec 17, 2019 at 1:32 PM UTC
The men, mostly wrapped in grey,
With knitted necks have nothing to say.
But sway out of the way of the others, passing.
Over there, on six, a man is checking
No one is asking, but he’s still looking.
His finger’s pointing.
Beside me, a beautiful lady, is waiting
Speaking softly to her lover:
“Not long now” – she whispers’, lower.
With late night morning upon our faces
We wonder why, we are here at all
Collecting colds, old age, and wages:
Before middle, old, and then the fall.
And then the sun appears:
It lights the seats where no one sits
I feel my heart beat miss a bit.
I see myself years ago.
Waiting for a train to go.
To take our family away, for free
For fish, chips, salt and sea.
All of us all, sitting there:
Our fathers 1950’s hair,
Our sixties mother thin lipped stare,
my sisters, bothers, and me, just sat there.
Frozen cold, with tears sticking in my eyes.
And for a moment I want back that time.
To start again, at another me:
No more trains - but more sea.
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 4:23 AM UTC
Imagine your life as a train –
Endless road and no more unbearable pain.
Now you are passenger, put troubles behind,
That actually twist your brilliant mind.
Landscape by landscape, sunset by sunset,
“Freedom is here!” you cheerfully said.
Others might think you must be insane
“How dare he exist unlike a last soul in the rain?”
Stay focused and do not be absorbed
By spoiled people whose troubles were not even solved.
Take reality easy, follow these words,
Now they are would be my final chords.
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 11:48 AM UTC
Once mingled,
free-floating piano tunes
and
sun-harshed highway
could be a match.
The Light Rail
took its time on the causeway,
I am a passenger,
safely guarded from the
unapologetic summerness
like tourists from the safari park.
I am a outrageous punk,
perching onto handrails
lost in his romantic dream of an
impossible summer. Romeo and Juliet in my hand.
Vehicle garages rusting
along palm trees lined
railway.
This is Yuen Long. This is the outskirts
with gated dogs with feral barks,
this is a compromise between bungalows and nature.
Piano symphonies morphed into
eighties tunes
in the Call Me By Your Name soundtrack album,
and the eighties synths
draws the archived mystics,
out from avenues
that leads to villas similar to those I have sojourned.
And the world as I see it, it is beautiful.
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 1:14 PM UTC
i'm a speaker
at a railway station
of a foreign country.
people is talking
and sound is bad
but if you concentrate
enough you can hear
my voice through the noise.
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 9:22 AM UTC
The blackberries on the railway path are ripe.
The woodland birds are quick to take their share,
while purple fingers pick amongst the hype
and rabbits hop in the hedgerow somewhere.
A cool wind spirals, rustling fallen leaves,
carrying distant cries along its way
and bending the amber-tinged tips of trees.
The sound of summer joys are in decay.
They soften, becoming calmer, quiet,
like tired eyes in need of time to sleep.
There are some feelings I cannot forget
and memories I will forever keep.
Meet me along the railway path, my dear,
to breathe the mellow, autumn atmosphere.
Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 2:25 PM UTC
When it rains here once again
I remember the time we clenched hands that monsoon.
And we trailed down that railway track on a cloudy noon
We weren't alone did you know?
In a place unknown to fog and snow
The weather had lost its temper
The train had been blinded enough to lose track.
Who doesn't know it's all a knack!
Derailed, they say.
Before the next I wish they simply care
These are not mere accidents you bare,
But testimonies you claim on a paid fare.
Indian Railways or any other for that matter I say,
When they pass the word 'happy journey'
We simply wish it's not our last.
When it rains once again here,
I remember the time we clenched hands that monsoon.
And I wailed down the railway track on that tragic day,
I do not understand which side to stake.
Or wish for summer once again in my life
Or curse the rails, frames and journeys that shatter.
Shatter! Solely due to human hands that fell short,
short to value the lives that derail.
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 2:07 PM UTC
Oh no a heartbreak! The original heartbreak of the world and I must tell everyone, warn them all about the precipice that exists on the other side of love. They’ll never know if I don’t take off my red petticoat and stand on the tracks waving it, calling bird-voice, ‘Watch out!’
[the train gets nearer]
‘Dear People, I, cloistered soul, fear you have been misled regarding the nature of existence. It is in fact PAIN!’
[the train gets nearer]
‘All the golden days are over since my lover left my arms.’
[the train, you know]
‘Heed my words and do not trust…’
The train runs me over.
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 3:22 PM UTC
The local, strides through the rotten rails,
Metal to metal, rust to rust
The boggy sways and along with it, the hangers who
Hang in there, not by choice but by the might
Of time, distance, and bills to pay
The feeling is mutual as we stand, sway
Push, pull, and grab on to anything just to balance
Yet the journey never ends
It only begins.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 3:01 AM UTC
I march to a different drummer
My life it is my own
I'm an explorer of experience
That is how I'm known
I've seen snow in South Dakota
I've been on the Vegas strip
Had barbeque in Kansas
My life has been a trip
I'm a gypsy of the railways
I'm a legend in my time
I move on in a boxcar
Brother... spare a dime?
I've been through all the landlocked states
Five provinces as well
I've seen Niagara Falls all frozen
I've seen it flowing fast as well
I've had margaritas in Key West
And Bourbon in Kentucky
Craft beers out in Oregon
In my life I have been lucky
I travel on my stories
Feed myself with all my tales
I'm an explorer of experience
I'm a gypsy of the rails
I never stick around too long
I don't wear my welcome out
I come and see just what I want
That's what life is all about
I've railroad friends in Texas
Some up in BC too
We've shared drinks in San Diego
And had a great Alaskan brew
I'm not one to live by your rules
I find my rules suit me fine
I'm an explorer of experience
And I'm riding on the lines
You can find me down in Georgia
Or eating spuds in Idaho
I never know just where I'll be
Until my ride begins to go
I'm a gypsy of the railways
I'm a legend in my time
I move on in a boxcar
Brother...spare a dime?
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
The oceanic wind did not rescind but instead it found its form.
Gathering in strength and gaining much in length at the centre of the storm.
Building attitude it would not exclude from the frigate sailing true.
But with its destination now a defication the seas discarded with the crew.
Land-Ho, it came, did this hurricane bringing with it such a wave.
Like none had ever seen was this water screen that was bound to misbehave.
Throwing all aside like an unruly bride who was aiming to get her way.
And what lay ahead was a heap of dead as the big one came to play.
On its way inward it had done no good to the vessells on the sea.
Throwing craft around and causing men to drown it wasn't going to let them be.
Breaching many shores like unruly ****** the waves would spread there grisly pox.
From the nearest beach to the out of reach destination of inland docks.
Catastrophe - spelt with a capital C was the headlines in the news.
Every seaside place had a weary face that was filmed by camera crews.
People died that day many swept away as the nearest towns did flood.
Even tracks were failing with the trains derailing while water washed away the blood.
Many homes were wrecked as they did disconect and the oceans did divorce.
With those like you and me as they watched TV as the waters swam there course.
Many got up high and watched their fellows die on this day that would not be.
Forgotten very soon as before high noon we were dismantled by the sea.
It's all over now and we will somehow continue with our lives.
We'll bury our dead and we'll count the heads of our lost husbands and wives.
They'll be laid to rest and we'll then invest in the massive clear away.
But when that wind gets up it'll hit us in the gut but all we can do is pray.
The world cannot be tamed and does not feel ashamed when it strikes from out of the blue.
However we prepare nature doesn't care and will do what it must do.
We think we're in control but we're just on parole from what nature has to throw.
And we'll hope that day never comes our way but we can never really know.
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
Money Talks
and what it said back then on the railway bridge
at Bloomfield Road (no longer there of course)
was "You can spare me – it means only one less
penny ice lolly from the corner shop !" (no longer
there of course) and the train will make me huge
(steam no longer here of course) and the others
will laugh and cheer as you scramble down to
the line place me centred and climb back up
here again before the train shoots through to
Central Station (no longer there of course).
Gigantic copper-coloured disc and this recall.
Still talking half a century after.
(c) C J Heyworth August 2014
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 12:17 PM UTC