The Poetry Platform
Crossing the Border
In conjunction with Littleborough Station groups
in celebration of
Kids on a train
Crying
Shouting
Sleeping
Eating
Drinking
Kids on a train
Talking to mum
Laughing with dad
Smiling at the seat behind
Pulling faces at the seat in front
Kids on a train
©Alan McKean
June 2006
Littleborough Station, 6:00 am
A crisp wind,
Heralding the onset of autumn,
Whistles keenly
Along the deserted platform.
Autumn leaves
Roll like tumbleweed
In the dark morning
Of October’s end.
The shelter,
Open, and providing little warmth,
Sits empty,
Its seats bumless in the dark.
The early morning Co-op
Awaits early morning deliveries,
As the staff
Open shutters and move trolleys.
Slowly,
Lights in the houses across the alley
Bring their families
Into the day.
The village wakes.
©Alan McKean October 2006
Train Ride
Clickety clack
Wheels on a track
Trains going forward
Trains going back.
Signals at green
Signals at red
Take you to work
Take you to bed.
Pay for your ticket
Wait for the train
Cold, empty platform,
Sodden with rain.
Into a coach
Find empty seat
It’s a cold morning
Hope it’s got heat.
Long journey beckons
People to meet
Time to get comfy
Time for a sleep.
Trains going here
Trains going there
Carrying people
Here, there and where.
© Alan McKean
Brief Encounter - M J Barber 26 February 2006
I wonder if you
Remember me
And that summer
All those years ago.
The old beech tree in the woods
Near the river
And the sun-drenched meadow
High above the valley.
For an hour or two
We lay in the warm grass,
Listening to the hum of insects
And the skittering song
Of a skylark
And the distant sounds
From the valley far below,
And we talked of hopes
And of dreams
And of things that might come true.
Then you had to go
And we walked down
To the station,
Our feet clattering
On the open boarding
Of the platform,
And we sat in silence for a while
In the little waiting room.
The train came on time
And you stood at the door
Looking through the open window,
As the engine
Steamed and heaved
Drawing the carriages away,
And I gave a last wave
As a curve in the track
Took you from sight,
And you were gone.
We never met again,
But in the darkest
And most secret moments
Of the night
I still think of you,
And wonder if you
Remember me,
And that lovely summer
All those years ago.
Count my Blessings
A little hug from someone dear,
I count my Blessings when your near,
Your smile lights up my every day,
I feel afraid when you're away.
A wink of eye, a hand in mine,
I bless the day you said, "I’m thine".
We kiss under the apple tree,
Were we have carved, "I love thee".
I bless the joy of winter snow,
And little flowers as they grow,
The rain that wets my long hair ,
And knowing you are always there.
When things are sad , or I’m alone,
Or when I’ve had a little moan,
I think of Blessings all about
Children dear, A little house,
Days so full, and you of course,
I count my blessings,
because I’m yours.
Ó by Winifred Thorpe
Railway Steel road, connecting
The village to the city And our history
© Alan McKean February 2007