Roaring Camp

 

 

Central coast of California,

Under the redwoods dark and damp.

My childhood stomping grounds,

The tourist trap Roaring Camp.

 

A throwback to the eighteen eighties,

When lumber was as good as gold.

And steam trains haul load after load,

Or so it is that I am told

 

If you listen close you can hear it;

The whistle blowing from crossed the town.

The locomotive preparing for another trip,

Hauling the tourists all around.

 

The engine powerful and polished,

As the steam begins to churn.

You can smell the coal in the air,

As fireman sets it to burn.

 

As a child it was taken for granted;

This steam train that I miss so deeply.

What I would have given for just one ride;

Now the memory rushes back sweetly.

 

The hands of time cannot be unwound

And so it goes; it never fails

I would love to return once again

And to ride the steam train on the rails.

 

11/19/2017

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

great piece of nostalgia Sir J Todd! the redwoods of Central and Northern California never let a person go once visited ..and the history of lumbering and its bawdy skid row ... great stuff ... not to mention the steam engines ... wonderful read for me ... top to bottom!
E.

[J Todd Underhill]

You do realize it reads as a good poem from bottom to top too... I am sick in the head I know but hey what is a poet to do?

[Einstein Noodle]

and so it does!!! clever boy you!!! :) you always challenge me sir ..for which i am thankful ;)

[Ruth]

Nostalgia is an ache at times...the places we love and miss are always in the heart but the older we get the more we realise we miss them more...beautiful piece :)