Trains

Across the country, on the rails.

Sometimes late, sometimes fails.

No longer followed by billows of smoke.

Reduced often to simple joke.

Yet I'm still a romantic for trains

For all their messes, all their pains

Despite the changes and privitization

They'll always appear in my ideal nation

Maybe it's growing up in York

Maybe it's due to stories, despite all the talk

I love the idea of the Hogwarts express

Streaming through fields showing no duress

The great equalizer, the reason many could see the sea

Suddenly we were closer that we ever thought we could be

Travelling the same route each and every day

"We'll get you this far, now make your own way"

I've travelled so many miles, but never lost track

Always knowing the path is open return back

Yes it's flawed, but for all their pains

I still have a certain fondness for trains

One of the odder effects of growing up in York, I feel. While I'll never be a train watcher I do still have more affection than I probably should for what is a mode of transport...