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The Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway

In the August sun.

Look the guard's waving his flag,

Oh, won't this be fun!

An over-large American,

Concerned for her small hound,

Talks loudly all the way down to

New Romney, and the sound

Of her Primary Teacher's voice

Drowns out the hiss of seam;

And the lurking wine dark sea,

Which can just be seen

Between the houses on the coast

From Hythe to Dungerness,

Is ignored, in favour of

Her pooch's panting breath.

The train speeds up, the kids look out

To wave at all who stand

As we flash by, at walking speed,

Along to Romney Sands

Then through the tunnel to arrive

At our destination

For souvenirs and lunch perhaps

Brought at New Romney Station.

Behold the men who stand around

Admiring the Engineer

Who tinkers with the wheels and valves

Oiling here and there

While the mums sort out the kids,

Those bouncing for the loo

From those demanding an ice cream

Or something else to do -

'Cos if you're twelve, you're far above

All these childish things,

A family outing on the train's

Like - just - embarrassing.

But now it's time to take the train

Back along the line

Squashed with other visitors

All having a great time.

The whistle blows, we're nearly there,

Steaming to the station.

Bye ye' all. I hope you have

A really great vacation!

We wander back towards the car,

Left parked in the sun,

Wishing it were yesterday, for

The holidays are now done,

And even if the memory

Of days like this may last

All too soon they will become

Just smoke, circling the past.

Brian Hick August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 10.7.24