The Train with a Tender Heart

The train chugged on in the darkness

Past meadows and cattle asleep,

And the night revealed its starkness

Puffing smoke on the backs of sheep,

Its livery was as black as the soot

That covered its ageing paint,

It couldn’t be classed as beautiful,

Though it might have been thought as quaint.

The night was such an inky black

As a cloud obscured the stars,

The train was sensing a nothingness

In the vast expanse to Mars,

The fireman sprayed its feed of coal

As the boiler felt the strain,

As tired pistons and tired wheels

Drove on the exhausted train.

A thought came out of the empty sky

And mixed with the sulphur stream,

‘Why can’t I be like the other trains

That little boys love, and dream,

Instead, I’ve spent my whole life long

Tied to an endless rail,

I’ve done all the driver wanted to

But I may as well be in jail.’

There was only an empty signal box

Unmanned at that time of night,

And miles and miles of dark ahead

With never a single light,

So an angry feeling was building up

At that Great Train in the sky,

That only commanded, ‘what thou shalt,’

But never explained, ‘but why?’

So into the dark it chugged along

With carriages in its wake,

While deep inside, the fireman asked

‘Did anyone fix the brake?

The driver shook his gnarled old head

As if in a quick reply,

‘There hasn’t been time for the loco shed,

But they’ll fix it, by and by.’

The boiler started to grumble so

They stopped at a water trough,

The fireman pulled the spout across

And turned it on, then off,

They pulled away with the tender full

Though the train was feeling pain,

‘I’m always doing the same old things,

I’m not going to stop again.’

So on they steamed to Hunterdown

Where at last the brakes had failed,

All they got was a steady sçream

As the wheels spun on the rails,

And though the driver cut the steam

Still along the track it sped,

While the driver and the fireman

On the footplate, stood in dread.

‘The rail runs out at Dead Man’s Eye

Said the driver to his mate,

If we can’t slow down this blessed thing,

I’m afraid, it’s much too late.’

They chose to jump as the rail ran out

But the train still plunged ahead,

Over the untamed landscape

Riding on meadow grass instead.

The carriages piled behind it

Were detached in an awful wreck,

But still the locomotive drove 

On a joyous final trek,

It rambled over a grassy ridge

And fell over a pleasant hill,

Next to a colourful flower bed,

And today, it lies there still.

Now children gather to play on it

This pile of rusted steel,

A train that had a tender heart

And for once could see and feel,

If all of its life were memories

Then the one it’s surely got,

Is riding unfettered across the green

To a bed of forget-me-nots.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Beautiful story of hope. Excellent read.

[Tony Jordan]

A truly wonderful tale David.
Reminded me of the 'donkey sanctuary' adverts where the poor things have twisted hooves but still carry bricks until they drop.

[Avinash]

This is a beautiful visual story and deserves an animation made out of it. Loved the urge of freedom in this piece.

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed the tale. I like the ending. All things will be re-used in the end. You create good characters and story line my friend. Thank you David for sharing your amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Corset]

I especially loved the closing stanza, the derailed train finally allowed to rest and remember the green of happier days :)