Stogumber Station


​Stogumber station,
calm amidst calm,
nestled amongst the Quantocks.
​No reason to still be there -
a station preserved by enthusiasts,
maintained by volunteers,
rarely busy,
with long periods of nothing
disturbed by blasts from a distant whistle.
​This popular stop along a charming time-capsule,
a preserved railway line
known for its tranquil, old-fashioned charm.
A place where once the produce of the area
was taken out into the world;
where once a goods shed stood;
a goods shed bigger than the main station building itself.
A building now busy serving cream teas and refreshments
to the dedicated supporters who come to the station.
​Its once-short, single platform stood testiment
to the main reason for the station's being:
Goods over Passengers.
​The Victorian mania for the railways,
the construction of lines with tiny; remote stations,
often many miles from their village namesakes.
The hopes and aspirations of landowners and investors
to link ports to businesses,
the hopes of great futures.
"​To the brewers,
The farmers and landowners,
The weavers and industries:
The railways will connect you
To markets for your produce -
Prosperity through connectivity!"
​This place,
now its own little heaven.
A place to sit,
to be briefly disturbed by the occasional steam train -
a cream tea interrupted by a heritage diesel loco
calmly pulling a rarely seen goods train.
​Then, the return to silence,
and your cup of tea.
A silence you can't often find these days,
this is genuine silence.
The genuine peace that is found at Stogumber station.
​This place - somewhere you just need to be!



(Haiku

Listening to some 
jazz!. My wife hates jazz; only
...she's gone out shopping!

(Haiku)

Very quiet in
the village - except for the 
sound of the sunshine!

I Wonder (If they are happy)

I wonder why he chose the red Porsche.
What does he do to afford a car like that anyway?

I wonder which is her favourite Caribbean island.
Do you think they fly business class or just 1st class?

I wonder what's their house is worth 
and which sunny clime she got that sun tan from?

I wonder who her favourite designer is.
and I wonder what she sees in him - do you think they're happy?

(Haiku)

With great discomfort
comes the joy that perhaps this 
route is incorrect 

A Million Miles Away

A beautiful dream about having to work 
woke me under the light of a broken street lamp
directing me to the sea
through streets full of empty echos 
the misty childhood memories 
a head full of holes where life rushed in
waves crashing the names of class mates
smoking in the park
stamping out fag butts
jumping streams
like dogs chasing dogs
catching
heavy clouds so lightly from the sky
the relentless noise from fifty years ago 
and a million miles away