The Train Journey

ImageA train arrives with majesty

Its carriages lined in the Station,

‘tis the 11.15 to Cardiff Central.


I walk along the platform,

Waiting for my carriage.

First I come upon the First Class carriages

Awaiting some well-to-do traveller.


Then down the platform I go,

Walking out of Paddington

And into the rain.

At last I find good Carriage B

And bid farewell to friends.


Seat No. 2, well there’s a sight

‘tis just in front of the luggage room.

We leave on time and pick up speed

Flying across England

Westward, onward to Wales.


The luggage room may be noisyImage

But I don’t mind, for my seat is comfy.

We pass over the fields of yellow, orange, and green

Onto worlds and places yet unseen.

Through Reading, Didcot, and Swindon,

We fly! Fly across the countryside.


The whistle blows,

The signal to all,

Our train is leaving.

Farewell Swindon.

Onward towards Cardiff Central.


The clouds are lighter and happier here,

Less threatening than before.

The railwaymen do their work

As families laugh and play.

I sit and watch the warehouses

And villages pass on by.


Next onto Bristol and then Newport

Before reaching the city of Wales.

The journey may be short,

But beauty does not suffer.


Next pas a fine horse farm

Where a mare rolls in joy

And her friends laugh and say to her,

“You are one silly horse.”


The fields are giving way to hills,

The yellow to green and brown.

The crops do change

The cattle mangé

The trees become fuller.


A fine gentleman sits in front

A peer in Carriage G,

A gentle maid in Carriage A,

And I in carriage B.

The gentleman’s banana smells quite potently,

I should have brought a book to read

For this train journey!


And then!

And then the terror approaches,

A tunnel draws near.

My ears they feel the full force of our speed.

They shriek in horrid pain.

This seat is not my preference!

O horror, o horror!

Another tunnel! This one is longer than the last.

I’ll put a word into Heaven, when we reach Cardiff,

For another pair of ears.


We must be in the hills approaching Bristol.

The tempestuous clouds darken,

The flora is verdant in this country,

Power lines speckle the landscape.


We pass a viaduct over a town.

We must be close to the coast,

Nearing our destination.

More trees and hills,

I fear another damned tunnel.

No, wait, we’re slowing, Bristol approaches.

The motorway is jammed below us,

The station draws near.



We pass through a far longer tunnel,

Sailing deep underground into Wales.

The carriage does creak upon the rails.

I see a platform pass on by, and feel the train turn

We fly past medieval churches and under motorways.


The art of train travel is in the British deck,

Americans like I are amazed at it.

No seat belts, nor airline fees are needed here.

I bought my ticket for £19.50 for this train.


The way to Cardiff may be long,

But we have done it neatly.

Just over two hours it took

To travel cross-country.


Great forests now joing the fields

In this gwald.

The hen wald fy nadhau approaches now.

Excitement builds in my heart

As we come upon our terminus.

But first one final stop is called for in Newport.Image


Cardiff approaches at last,

The station PA siarad Cymraeg

The sinage does as well.

The green and red of Wales

Certainly abounds.


Now you may rest,

For this lay is rest,

I’ll sing no more of the train,

Lest we be blest.


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