Today's poem is taken from the second collection of my poetry 'Shades of Spring' which was privately published in 1967.
A Disused Station
The country railway station, silent now,
looks down on miles of grassy track.
The ticket office, waiting room,
echoes of a train from some time back.
Nothing more than rotten planks,
supported by the blackened stone.
The platform, cold and bare,
that time has left alone.
Tracks covered, from misuse, with rust,
running endless across the land.
The rose-bower and the rockery
no longer tended by veteran hand.
The only passengers, birds at rest;
waiting for the warmth of summer day.
The only staff, the field mice,
that chatter gaily at their play.
Where once had stood so many men,
aloof, to travel to the town,
we leave to Nature now, and time -
the disused station, crumbling down.
© 1967 : Colin Gordon-Farleigh
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