The Sweet aroma of a thousand dog roses
scented the steep sunny path to the station.
We hurried to see The Golden Arrow train,
a tiny dot at the far end of the tunnel.
The dot became larger and larger, until,
in a cloud of smoke the engine emerged
and we were engulfed in coal smoke.
But what a thrill and how we loved it.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Lovely memories you've evoked here, Dixie and so nice to read one of your poems again as I've really missed you.
Ann


