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Poetry By: robertkaban
Poetry


Come on, who wouldn't write a poem about the olden days of railroads when you're riding on a train?


Submitted:Apr 7, 2012    Reads: 4    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   


Black smoke unfurls from the stack

Clickety-clack, clickety-clack, a blur thundering down the track

Wheels spinning, spinning, spinning round,

Rushing, to the country it's bound

A toot of its horn, then it pulls away

An adventure is born, the trip is under way!

It slowly chugs away from the station,

Ready to travel halfway across the nation

Trees whip past the windows, the landscape flies past

Most of the passengers are sleeping, despite the train traveling fast

The scenery switches, from coast to desert then gives way to trees

The porter slowly walks through the cab, silent but for the clink of his golden keys

The train hurtles past many unlit stations; it is late at night

No one is awake to admire the gleaming train; the silver foil glimmering is quite a sight

The storm clouds start to gather, rain starts to drop

The wind starts to gust, the trees seem ready to fall

The wind starts to scream across the land, it turns into a squall

The gentle pitter-patter sounded by the rain

Is loud enough to drag people back from dreamland and sleep throughout the train

A loud "clap" thunders across the sky

Startling all aboard, opening every single eye

Slowly, mouths start to open, in anticipation of yawning

All aboard start stretching, not wanting to waste a single precious moment of the new day dawning





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