The 6.15 from Paddinton goes chugging down the track, <br />The Guard blows on his whistle, and the engine whistles back. <br />The carriages are following, swaying as they go, <br />The passengers are also swaying to and fro. <br /> <br />Through Maidenhead, Reading and Newbury in Berks, <br />The monster travels onwards, with steam, grey smoke and sparks. <br />Past Swindon down in Wiltshire and then Chipping Sodbury, <br />Through tunnels, over bridges, always in a 'big' hurry. <br /> <br />The countryside goes whooshing by, as we travel on, <br />With fields, lanes and cottages, one moment seen, then gone. <br />Villages, farms and valleys, tree clad hills and downs, <br />Flashing past the windows, with 'swishy swooshy' sounds. <br /> <br />It now approaches Bristol, the driver applies the brakes, <br />With screeching and with creaking, what a hullabaloo it makes. <br />It's reached it's destination where the Porter and the Clerk, <br />Will check on all the passengers, before they disembark. <br /> <br />The loud station announcer declares she's the next train out, <br />The fireman stokes the boiler, and the green flag's waved about. <br />The train is off and whistles, as it thunders out of view, <br />The trails of smoke are lifting and the sun is breaking through. <br /> <br />The 6.15 from Paddington is now on her way to Wales, <br />To Cardiff and to Swansea, for the shops and summer sales.<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-6-15-from-paddington-steam-days/
