Longing to go away and hating to walk past the
railway station instead of going in and booking a seat
on a train – any train to almost anywhere – I thought of
the time I was on the train in this poem. It was a sunny morning and
great fingers of sunshine swept the old dark shadows of
the station away. Stations and trains and total devotion.
THE OLD STATION WALL
That great black wall
Towering over the train
Standing at the station,
Grows little green ferns
In the cracks between bricks,
Sends tiny yellow flowers
Bursting out of the old tar and dust,
So full of life and hope,
Their tiny petals tickle
The darkness with sunshine.
Ā©2021 Gwen Grant
Poems by Gwen Grant 
Dear Gwen, such a great poem. Amela.
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beautifully evoked memory, Gwen : such joyful snatches of hope and regeneration — and that last stanza, a quiet gem š
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Thank you so much, John. Kind of you to say so.
Gwen.
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Thank you so much. How kind of you to say so. I just wish I was on a train instead of sitting here, though!
Gwen.
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Another cracker Gwen! So original!
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Glad you like my poems, Sharon, as I like your Posts, too.
Gwen.
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“total devotion./That great black wall.” Brilliant! And then to end on the uplifting note of the wildflowers growing up through the old wall. I just love this. Wish I’d thought of it! š ā¤ļø
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Thanks Gwen, so good of you to stop by and read my posts! Have a great weekend!
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Then who would write your lovely blogs?
Gwen.
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Such visual words, Gwen! Here’s hoping your wishes of riding the train again come true. Take care!
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Thank you! Before the end of summer, hopefully.
Gwen.
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