The Train
The tracks that lead to my door, also lead away, and if a train, stops on by, it can return someday, it's whistle blowing long and hard how I love to hear that sound, and oh the great vibrations, that are felt along the ground! The train usually passes me right up you see but one day it stopped here, just to visit me, I wonder if it will return, to blow it's whistle strong I wonder to if wishing, for the train is very wrong. For it's on a busy schedule, with lots of stops to make, it mustn't keep folks waiting, by putting on it's brake.
Next Poem Link to Index caramarie@attbi.com
Written by: Cara Marie Filipeli