Charing Cross Station
At the end of the Strand it stands out as bold.
A fine edifice which is many years old.
The facade is ornate and a sight to see.
Also a well known meeting place to be.
Loudspeaker announcements are regularly made.
With an English accent and very staid.
Platform Six is for Folkestone and Dover.
If going to France the journey is not over.
As the train pulls out of the station.
The River Thames draws my attention.
Then as it gathers speed into the fields.
We see what the county of Kent does yield.
The garden of England is an orchard of fruit.
And many can be seen on this scenic route.
London now recedes into the distant past.
As the train races on with a speed so fast.
The county is immense and grand in size.
And within its boundaries does much reside.
Towns and villages fly past with haste.
As the channel express does make its pace.
In the skies above the Battle of Britain was fought.
And from this conflict are many memories and thoughts.
A county well forested which often conceals the view.
It is a great temptation to get off and see what's new.
Passengers sit in compartments of eight.
Some with refreshments bought before the gate.
A trolley service brings beverages and booze.
Which often causes many to silently snooze.
A whistle is blown and an announcement made known.
That the train has arrived and will soon be home.
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Author:
Keith Jeffries (
Offline) - Published: May 18th, 2023 14:34
- Comment from author about the poem: A train journey which I made on a weekly basis many years ago in both directions. It brings back fond memories.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments2
Brilliant!
I used to work on trains, and indeed
this beautiful love song to
our much maligned Blighty
'brings back fond memories'
thank you for sharing, dear poet
Thank you for taking the time to read this poem and commenting on it. I was in the Army for ten years and spent hours racing about from one station to the next in different parts of the country. Rail travel is my favourite mode of transport.
Bought back some ancient memories of my homeland and stamping ground...and some slightly more recent memories related to return visits. Thanks. Nostalgia ain't wot it used to be......
Thanks for the comment. I have lived abroad now for some twenty years or more. I make fleeting visits to the UK but each one leaves me filled with dismay. I can no longer identify with the place or the people, except for a few souls who share my age group. I can no longer call it home. It has changed out of all recognition.
Agreed. But last visit was 2014 and even then.... but since my heyday in London was Late '60's and 70's, what could I possibly expect?
My heyday was during the same period. I had a ball.
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