Destination Birthgrove – Poem

Destination Birthgrove

By Gerald Ainger/Cobb
 Wed 8th Feb 2012

The train roared through the tunnel

No smoke no steam and also no funnel

There were laughs joined with screams

Bridges looming across rivers and streams

The countryside rolled by slowly

Hills and dales standing so very lonely

Cobbled stone station drew aside our electro-mobile

Passengers oozed out in country style

This was the station where I departed

Two hours later I was back to where I started

Four sixteen to Birthgrove shunted in

Old carriages dusty, dark and grim

Speeding along at sixty miles per hour

Screaming past the famous Queens Bower

This was it’s most popular name

Although many were mistaken for the same

Shunting slowly the train always did try

Then the sky darkened and started to cry

Although not moving very fast

My destination was here at last

(on a train journey to Weymouth July1968 )


13 thoughts on “Destination Birthgrove – Poem

  1. As they say, what matters is that we arrive to our destination safe and better than ever. The poem has so much to offer…not just the story of the the means of getting to where we need to go but how it happened. Kind of like life…it’s not always fast and thrilling as we want to be but what matters is we get to that place we always dream of going. Totally cool my friend. Best wishes!

    1. It is very hard to understand, back in the days of steam, and me being a long haired guitar playing hippy when I wrote this, and now computers and manage to assemble poetry book. But never in my dreams did I expect other people to like them, So a big Thank you..

    1. I wrote it in 1968, it has been amended a few times. But it is in my book of poems and started putting them onto my site. It does bring back the memory of the era.. it is really unbelievable that people like my poems. i also write lyrics, which appear.. thank you so much.

  2. Great sense of movement.

    Wouldn’t that ‘Screaming pass’ line be safer as ‘Screaming past’? Or it would need a comma to give ‘Screaming, pass …’ if that’s what you meant.

  3. Beautiful poem. Your words alone a trasport to a different time, a different place,

    Reminds me very much of a recent, different kind of “Bus” ride I was on with a friend.
    The country side rolling by.

    A sign of a great writer when he can inspire instant recall of a time, a place, and maybe even a person with just words,

    I so enjoyed this ~ BB

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