Poems

First & second offerings from Ray May

           1)   STEAM, THE FABRIC OF MY DREAMS

  

             Oh; how I wished I could go back in time,

             To see the boat train go down the main line,

             As it sped to meet the cross channel boat,

             A long line of steam and a deep sounding note.

 

             The goods van swaying from side to side,

             Oh; how I wished I could go for a ride,

             Sometimes a local stopped on the branch line,

             It picked up our hops and left bags of lime.

  

             Dad said one day it will all be gone,

             I did not believe him, I thought he was wrong,

             But now alas I can see he was right,

             Our branch line has gone but we put up a fight!

  

             Now all we have is a short length of track,

             With Ruston and Dixie going forward and back,

             But I have made good friends at open day meets,

             With tea and cream cakes and other nice treats.

        

             So make the effort when open days come,

             Bring an engine and join in the fun,

             You will be most welcome of that I am sure,

             There is many to help get your fire to roar.

  

             So when you get home and reflect on good times,

             Why not for the mag, write a few lines,

             And one day who knows you  will be just like me,

             With memories and photos forever to see.

 

 

 

              By Ray May.

 

 

        2)     TIME

 

               Lord you know I am sixty seven,

               And not yet ready to go to heaven,

               Dixie needs a nice new grate,

               So can I stay till I am sixty eight?

 

                In my shed a new engine stands,

                Iím working hard with dirty hands,

                I would like to see it on my line,

                So can I stay till Iím sixty nine?

 

                Open days will soon come round,

                There is old friends to be found,

                 Tea and cakes of that there is plenty,

                 So can I stay till I am seventy?

 

                 I love the smell of steam and oil,

                 I will soon light up and let here boil,

                 Of in my shed, lots to be done,

                 So can I stay till I am seventy one?

 

                If my engine gets much bigger,

               To get it out a way I must figure,

                I am cutting gears and have not a clue,

               So can I stay till I am seventy two?

 

                Now the gardenís looking rough,

                The pond needs clearing of all that stuff,

                The winds blown down a big old tree,

                So can I stay till I am seventy three.

 

                They say three score years and ten,

                No way will I be ready then,

                I like it here, thereís lots to do,

                So dear Lord itís up to you.

 

 

                by  Ray May