92 Train Poems to Carry You Away

Trains have always captivated the imagination of poets, from the exhilarating rush of speed to the romantic allure of adventure.

Train poems take us on a journey through time and space, inviting us to marvel at the power and beauty of locomotives and the landscapes they traverse.

Whether we’re reminiscing about childhood trips, pondering the passage of time, or simply reveling in the thrill of the ride, train poems offer a unique and unforgettable way to experience the world.

Let’s explore a range of train poems that will carry us away on a journey of the senses and the soul.

Here are some poems about trains!

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Best Train Poems

Experience the very best in train poetry, from classic works to modern masterpieces, and find inspiration and beauty in the power of the locomotive. Here we have the best poems about trains.

1. At the Railway Station

       by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts

Here the night is fierce with light,
Here the great wheels come and go,
Here are partings, waitings, meetings,
Mysteries of joy and woe.
Here is endless haste and change,
Here the ache of streaming eyes,
Radiance of expectant faces,
Breathless asking, brief replies.
Here the jarred, tumultuous air
Throbs and pauses like a bell.
Gladdens with delight of greeting.
Sighs and sorrows with farewell.
Here, ah, here with hungry eyes
I explore the passing throng.
Restless I await your coming
Whose least absence is so long.
Faces, faces pass me by,
Meaningless, and blank, and dumb,
Till my heart grows faint and sickens
Lest at last you should not come.
Then—I see you. And the blood
Surges back to heart and brain.
Eyes meet mine,—and Heaven opens.
You are at my side again.

2. At the Railway Station, Upways

       by Thomas Hardy

There is not much that I can do,
For I’ve no money that’s quite my own!’
Spoke up the pitying child-
A little boy with a violin
At the station before the train came in,-
‘But I can play my fiddle to you,
And a nice one ’tis, and good in tone!’
The man in the handcuffs smiled;
The constable looked, and he smiled too,
As the fiddle began to twang;
And the man in the handcuffs suddenly sang
With grimful glee:

This life so free
Is the thing for me!’
And the constable smiled, and said no word,
As if unconscious of what he heard;
And so they went on till the train came in-
The convict, and boy with the violin.

3. Adlestrop’

       by Edward Thomas

Yes, I remember Adlestrop –
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.
The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop – only the name
And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.
And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

4. An Approaching Train

       by Jonathan Moya

You’ll hear it, long before you feel it,
feel it long before you see it.

The train whistle is a glorious shriek,
full of choral bass and tremble,
Something that startles your skin—
an unexpected scream
from a well-known space.

Train steam splits the sky,
its wheels sunder the earth.

The water in its way parts,
a Moses hand creating safe passage
for the travelers inside,
walls of creation forming on the right,
destruction un-forming it  on the left.

The wheels flatten nickels to silver—
ploughshares to swords.

Those standing close to the tracks,
will hide from this shrieking cinder,
unsure of what it will do,
this beast that rides on rails
without beginning or end,
that forces one to put ear to track
to know its approaching.

The train only knows time in miles
not minutes,
the slipping of iron on iron into
both the day and night. 

It knows its belly must be fire—
melting the frost all around,
mean and nothing else.

5. Night Mail

       by W H Auden

This is the night mail crossing the Border,
Bringing the cheque and the postal order,

Letters for the rich, letters for the poor,
The shop at the corner, the girl next door.

Pulling up Be attock, a steady climb:
The gradient’s against her, but she’s on time.

Past cotton-grass and moorland boulder
Shovelling white steam over her shoulder,

Snorting noisily as she passes
Silent miles of wind-bent grasses.

Birds turn their heads as she approaches,
Stare from bushes at her blank-faced coaches.

Sheep-dogs cannot turn her course;
They slumber on with paws across.

In the farm she passes no one wakes,
But a jug in a bedroom gently shakes.

Dawn freshens, Her climb is done.
Down towards Glasgow she descends,
Towards the steam tugs yelping down a glade of cranes
Towards the fields of apparatus, the furnaces
Set on the dark plain like gigantic chessmen.
All Scotland waits for her:
In dark glens, beside pale-green lochs
Men long for news.

Letters of thanks, letters from banks,
Letters of joy from girl and boy,
Receipted bills and invitations
To inspect new stock or to visit relations,
And applications for situations,
And timid lovers’ declarations,
And gossip, gossip from all the nations,
News circumstantial, news financial,
Letters with holiday snaps to enlarge in,
Letters with faces scrawled on the margin,
Letters from uncles, cousins, and aunts,
Letters to Scotland from the South of France,
Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands
Written on paper of every hue,
The pink, the violet, the white and the blue,
The chatty, the catty, the boring, the adoring,
The cold and official and the heart’s outpouring,
Clever, stupid, short and long,
The typed and the printed and the spelt all wrong.

Thousands are still asleep,
Dreaming of terrifying monsters
Or of friendly tea beside the band in Cranston’s or Crawford’s:

Asleep in working Glasgow, asleep in well-set Edinburgh,
Asleep in granite Aberdeen,
They continue their dreams,
But shall wake soon and hope for letters,
And none will hear the postman’s knock
Without a quickening of the heart,
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?

6. The Missed Train

       by Anonymous

How I was caught
Hieing home, after days of allure,
And driven to an inn—small, obscure—
At the junction, fret-fraught!

How civil my face
To get them to chamber me there—
A roof I had passed scarce aware
That it stood at the place.

And how all the night
I had dreams of the unwitting cause
Of my lodgment. How lonely I was;
How consoled by her sprite!

Thus onetime to me
Dim wastes of dead years bar away
Then from now! But the like haps to-day
To young lovers, may be.

Years, years as gray seas,
Truly, stretch now between! Less and less
Shrink the visions then great in me.—Yes,
Then in me. Now in these.

7. The Remount Train

       by William Henry Ogilvie 

Every head across the bar,
Every blaze and snip and star,
Every nervous twitching ear,
Every soft eye filled with fear,
Seeks a friend and seems to say:
Whither now, and where away?’
Seeks a friend and seems to ask:
‘Where the goal and what the task?’

Wave the green flag! Let them go! —
Only horses? Yes, I know;
But my heart goes down the line
With them, and their grief is mine! —
There goes honour, there goes faith,
Down the way of duel and death,
Hidden in the cloud that clings
To the battle-wrath of kings!

There goes timid childlike trust
To the burden and the dust!
Highborn courage, princely grace
To the peril it must face!
There go stoutness, strength, and speed
To be spent where none shall heed,
And great hearts to face their fate
In the clash of human hate!

Wave the flag, and let them go! —
Hats off to that wistful row
Of lean heads of brown and bay,
Black and chestnut, roan and grey!
Here ‘s good luck in lands afar —
Snow-white streak, and blaze, and star!
May you find in those far lands
Kindly hearts and horsemen’s hands!

8. On A Train

       by Michael Earls

Oases are charming ‘mid the Afric sands,
Beautiful is summer after rain;
But the sweetest blossoms may be eyes and hands,
And two playful children on a train.

Aileen and her brother, home from holiday,
Left behind them Narragansett town;
Innocence like music followed all the way,
Summer glowed upon the cheeks of brown.

She that was their escort read a magazine:
They were young, and trains are dull at night;
All the passing signals, red and blue and green,
Counted up the miles for young delight.

I was there behind them, earnest in a book:
Lo, the journey turned to fairyland,
When, like magic mirrors, dusty windows took
Aileen’s dancing eyes and waving hand!

That is how it happened on a creeping train,
How a play began without a word,–
Peekaboo reflections in a window-pane,
Such a story-hour was never heard.

Aileen and her brother, strangers were to me;
They were friendly for the cloth I wore;
And through leagues of window, youthful play could see
We were friends to be for evermore.

So we passed the hamlets, passed the miles of night
In a fairyland of silent games,
Till the travel ended in the Worcester light,–
Yet we parted, strangers in our names.

But a fortnight later, by an autumn tree,
Aileen and her brother came my way,
And another, glad to tell the names of them and me,
And to hear how travellers can play.

Life is but a journey, say we evermore,
Passing lights the years have, like a train;
Three good friends will travel up to heaven’s door,
With the world a merry window-pane.

9. The Glory Train

       by Anonymous

got a one way ticket in my pocket
and a picture of Jesus in my locket
standin on the station
yes I hear that train a commin
and its commin here for you and me
so come on brother, come on sister
we is goin home so come on board

O that Glory Trains a commin
and I feel the tracks a rumblin
Headin for that glory train
Its takin all who board her
Yes that Glory Train
you can afford her
that G L O R Y  train

I was feeling kinda lonely
and I stumbled and fell so down below
but the Lord came and told me
Of his home back in there heaven
you come and see him soon
Yes it’s getting ever closer
Golden gates before us
headin back ta heaven

O that Glory Trains a commin
and I feel the tracks a rumblin
Headin for that glory train
Its takin all who board her
Yes that Glory Train
you can afford her
that G L O R Y  train

Well the Lord is there to greet us
and hes so glad to meet you
He stands with his angels on that throne of glory
for he is the morning and he is the evening
In this land of milk and honey
There are so many wonderful things to see
and everyone here is young again

Yeah we live happily ever after
through perfect peace and lots a happy laughter
In the presence of the greatest King that ever was
So friend dont you tarry
Every Jane, Jill ,Mike and Harry
Cuase if you come to him
He will love you forever
So get aboard that Glory train

O that Glory Trains a commin
and I feel the tracks a rumblin
Headin for that glory train
Its takin all who board her
Yes that Glory Train
you can afford her
that G L O R Y train

10. Whistle Stop Station – Pendrangle

       by Penelope Allen

This is an abandoned Saskatchewan station.
It’s one of many across my spacious nation.
They were strung out whistle stops for the duration
Of railways on which Canada forged its foundation.
Those schedule savvy station masters watched the clock,
Managed mail by rail, and tapped out telegraph talk.

There used to be skyscraper elevators for grain
That was loaded, by hopper, into the freight train.
Some displayed, in bold print, their community’s name.
These wooden icons will always own prairie fame.
Those schedule savvy station masters watched the clock,
Managed mail by rail, and tapped out telegraph talk.
The pioneers came, by train, and homesteads were manned.
One can see for miles across acres of farmed land.
When crops were planted, hardy wheat’s were the wise brand.
Come harvest time, luck was plucky or underhand.
Those schedule savvy station masters watched the clock,
Managed mail by rail, and tapped out telegraph talk.
Time marches on and changes are made fast apace.
Just yesterday, it seems, sureness had sense of place.
Now rail riders aren’t familiar with the rat race
Because excursions are for the rich to embrace.

Those schedule savvy station masters watched the clock,
Managed mail by rail, and tapped out telegraph talk.

11. The Train Dogs

       by Anonymous 

Out of the night and the north;
Savage of breed and of bone,
Shaggy and swift comes the yelping band,
Freighters of fur from the voiceless land
That sleeps in the Arctic zone.

Laden with skins from the north,
Beaver and bear and raccoon,
Marten and mink from the polar belts,
Otter and ermine and sable pelts—
The spoils of the hunter’s moon.

Out of the night and the north,
Sinewy, fearless and fleet,
Urging the pack through the pathless snow,
The Indian driver, calling low,
Follows with occasioned feet.

Ships of the night and the north,
Freighters on prairies and plains,
Carrying cargoes from field and flood
They sent the trail through their wild red blood,
The wolfish blood in their veins.

Funny Train Poems

Laugh out loud with hilarious and funny poems about train that poke fun at the quirks and idiosyncrasies of rail travel and remind us not to take ourselves too seriously.

1. Jumping in Front of A Subway Train

       by Caren Krutsinger

jumping in front of a subway train
thinking no one would care
everyone who saw
never got over it

jumping in front of a subway train
because she needed her medication
but refused to take it
ruining the lives of strangers

jumping in front of a subway train
leaving a despondent family
who never saw it coming
and luckily were not there that day

jumping in front of a subway train
or was she pushed?
Detectives were suspicious
but the observers did not observe

jumping in front of a subway train
or did she?
The question that will never be answered.
A family that will never be whole again
a sister gone in seconds.

2. Traveling Alone in A Crowded Train

       by Kelly Levy

Traveling alone in a crowded train,
I watch in wonder as it begins to rain.
I gaze upon those all around me,
on their faces a story I could see.

The eyes are mirrors to the soul,
telling a story that’s seldom told.
For the secrets that we try to hide,
are obvious when one looks inside.

Like the mother with the children,
who shushes them with a nervous grin.
Worried that they’ll make too much noise,
while she’s traveling with her little boys.

Or the businessman who sits in the back,
looking up to take a bite of his snack.
He’s too busy to pay attention,
getting ready for his next convention.

An old woman sits quietly reading a book,
on the present, her grandchildren gave her, a nook.
She tries to fiddle with this new technology,
but a real book she’d prefer, it’s clear to see.

Then there is the pair of cute young lovers,
who barely have taken their eyes off of each other.
So young full of fire, and ready to start,
a life in which they will never part.

An old man sits quietly sits in the corner,
doing a crossword, glaring at a foreigner.
He was probably raised during the era,
of Rhett Buttler and Scarlett O’Hara.

The poor foreigner wishing to be unseen,
as most assume he’s diabolical and mean.
But all the time, in reality,
he’s no really different from you or me.

A distracted musician sits in the last car,
towing the case for his brand new guitar.
Praying that one day he will make it big
maybe when he plays at his next gig.

Two best friends that are on a quest,
their life savings they did invest.
Building knowledge, memories, and wisdom,
as they travel with the church mission.

With so many faces to survey,
it’s hard for me to convey,
all the things I contemplate,
as I imagine each one’s fate.

It’s difficult for one to exactly know,
where the conversation might go.
When you travel you will find,
the world is full of all kinds.

3. At Afyon Train Station

       by Cemal Sureya

Remember that little girl at Afyon train station,
Who took off her shoes when she got on the train;
Think of the Varto earthquake, a box of milk powder,
And a bra sent as charity by the West.

The man whitewashed the walls of his house with the milk powder,
His wife kept the bra that was unknown to her,
She planned to use it as earmuffs in winter;
My God, was it really in your childhood days?…

Lots of people sitting on thresholds
I wish I would have loved you just for this.

4. Train Ride

       by John Wheel Wright

After rain, through afterglow, the unfolding fan
of railway landscape sidled on the pivot
of a larger arc into the green of evening;
I remembered that noon I saw a gradual bud
still white; though dead in its warm bloom;
always the enemy is the foe at home.
And I wondered what surgery could recover
our lost, long stride of indolence and leisure
which is labor in reverse; what physic recall the smile
not of lips, but of eyes as of the sea bemused.
We, when we disperse from common sleep to several
tasks, we gather to despair; we, who assembled
once for hopes from common toil to dreams
or sickish and hurting or triumphal rapture;
always our enemy is our foe at home.
We, deafened with far scattered city rattles
to the hubbub of forest birds (never having
“had time” to grieve or to hear through vivid sleep
the sea knock on its cracked and hollow stones)
so that the stars, almost, and birds comply,
and the garden-wet; the trees retire; We are
a scared patrol, fearing the guns behind;
always the enemy is the foe at home.
What wonder that we fear our own eyes’ look
and fidget to be at home alone, and pitifully
put of age by some change in brushing the hair
and stumble to our ends like smothered runners at their tape;
We follow our shreds of fame into an ambush.
Then (as while the stars herd to the great trough
the blind, in the always-only-outward of their dismantled
archways, awake at the smell of warmed stone
or the sound of reeds, lifting from the dim
into the segment of green dawn) always
our enemy is our foe at home, more
certainly than through spoken words or from grief-
twisted writing on paper, unblotted by tears
the thought came:
There is no physic
for the world’s ill, nor surgery; it must
(hot smell of tar on wet salt air)
burn in fever forever, an incense pierced
with arrows, whose name is Love and another name
Rebellion (the twinge, the gulf, split seconds,
the very raindrops, render, and instancy
of Love).
All Poetry to this not-to-be-looked-upon sun
of Passion is the moon’s cupped light; all
Politics to this moon, a moon’s reflected
cupped light, like the moon of Rome, after
the deep well of Grecian light sank low;
always the enemy is the foe at home.
But these three are friends whose arms twine
without words; as, in still air,
the great grove leans to wind, past and to come.

5. Ode to the Train

       by Sanjoy Mazumdar

Train, O Train
why do you rumble, run
so impetuously like an insane
without any fixed destination?
You run in plain, on mountain,
on track, along terrain.
You run in summer sun,
even in torrential rain.
You run like a sprinter
even in icy winter.
Dark, doleful yet dreamy night
cannot stop your fight
to safeguard travelers’ right.

Train, O Train
why don’t you go hibernation?
You with motive and motion
ever afford boarders’ emotion.
You run with no commission.
You know not any cessation.

Train O Train
you cannot be fettered.
You run period and place barred.
You are cosmopolitan,
make a human chain
of people in loin and linen.

Train, O Train
When you blow siren
I lift in emotion,
wish to be like a train.

6. Sonnet of Old Trains

       by M.L. Kiser

Listen to the rambling train click-clacking ‘round the bend;
it’s rattling a sweet refrain; some hoped it wouldn’t end.
Technology and time have changed the old “Iron Horse” a bit.
Today’s trains can take wear and tear as well as, steamers did.

Old steam trains were so magical a riders imagination would soar. 
Today’s trains are more intricate with artificial roars.
The steamers so beautiful elaborate carpets, fancy shades.
Old steamers were more dutiful, like performers on a stage.

Their faces had such character, built of iron and steel.
Rails stretched to vast places and their grinding might you’d feel.
any mysteries have been pennedn of iron horses without reins.
The ride was long and bumpy; today’s trains just aren’t the same.

Now the old cars are retired and though a few still remain;
there was no better way to travel then, except for old steam trains

7. The Train

       by John Gilman

Train whistle…echoed loudly
across the old. Cemetery plot
where I sat quietly. Listening
at midnight froze in my spot

the sound…spoke sad words
over a valley. Of damp mists
clammy fog….loitering there
a wind rippled ghostly wisp

people tucked. Into soft beds
not worried. About dark fate
warm fires. Heating cottages
while nightly dreams. Await

tonight’s ritual is concluded
led by lantern. To cold room
the train that took my lady
has dispelled
its nightly

8. The Train Leaves

       by Voodoo

If all goes well tomorrow, maybe I will find insight from this pages of sorrow
And I will finally discover my position in this great circle of life, lost in time
The train will be leaving very soon, and this heart beats real heavy, in a boon
For on this park bench I’ve sat, mind travelling back and forth past mishaps
Usually, when I think about this road home, I crave wonders being all alone

This is not the first time in my life, I have become addicted to a female smile
No! I loved my mother, truth is I have received no such affection from another
But, that’s the last thing on my mind, for you’re the best thing a man can find
I really wish I didn’t have to go, that I could run back to your embrace at home
For I stare your name in my phone book, and I have no money I can only look

Ah, every day brings fresh denunciations, followed by denials and insulations
I have looked at us for months, jealously, closing my eyes to all other skirts
There lay pieces of you everywhere, and the walls scream out my darkest fear
And this trains echo your heart’s elegant gaiety, my thoughts wet with pity
My mind lingers in front of night memories, memorizing our documentaries

The hasty heart booms, when I preceded you up the stairways to the bedroom
God, even the heavens are covered with grey paintings from that angel Michaels
I just can’t put down this pen, for my heart tells me, I’ll never fall in love again
For this unifying quality of life’s unexpected gifts, has left me trapped in the pits
I want to see you again no doubt, but the deceit, greed and mistakes without

Forgive me for mornings I decided to be honest, and the nights I traveled west
For I’m practically in a fish bowl down here, body, mind and soul without a care
If happiness returns, open the door wider for men to be delighted with a smile
For yet undiscovered is my position in this great circle of life, I am last in line
But if all goes well tomorrow, maybe I will find the right directions to follow.

9. Runaway Train

       by Randen

Tonight as I drive thru this cold autumn rain,
I’m a runaway train
I knew when you left me I might go insane,
I’m a runaway train

My hearts an old engine that’s loose on the track
When I hit the end there’ll be no turning back
There’s a song in my head but each note is the same,
I’m a runaway train

There’s hardly a night that I don’t call your name,
I’m a runaway train
I cry in the morning and feel so ashamed,
I’m a runaway train

All of my colors have faded to black
I’m looking ahead cause I dare not look back
Foot to the floor in the old hammer lane,
I’m a runaway train

No one can say where this journey will end
Maybe my poor heart will love once again
But tonight as I drive thru this cold autumn rain
I’m a runaway train

Famous Train Poems

Discover famous poems about train that have captured the imagination of readers for generations and explore the enduring appeal of this beloved mode of transportation.

1. Ghost Train.

       by Black Narcissus

Toot, toot, toot, the haunting bell
come little children bound for hell
all aboard the midnight train
round and round and round again.

Slowly, slowly, creeping black
close your eyes and don’t look back
ghost train, ghost train, here we go
through the doors an eerie glow.

Faster now, a big surprise
shaking children close their eyes
screaming faces, headless ghouls
children pray for peaceful schools.

Cobwebs touch a waiting cheek
a scream, a shout, a tiny shriek
darker, darker, spooky sound
ghost train, ghost train, round and round.

Hands are shaking, hearts beat loud
gruesome face inside a shroud
vampire bats on flapping wings
frightened children, scary things.

Suddenly the doors swing wide
children find themselves outside.
Giggle, giggle, children smile
round again in just a while.

2. Trainspotting

       by Cignolago

Steaming through the countryside
The joy of a nostalgic railway ride
I recall when this experience was real
To travel behind a locomotive made of steel

For in my blood is my love of trains
Born by the railway, it courses through my veins
I have enjoyed rail journeys around the world
Some could even be described quite absurd

High up in the mountains and by the sea
I love the routes in these vicinities
I applaud the trains that travel these rails
And the men who built them, hard as nails

The high speed chariots I use most weeks
No better form of transport would I ever seek
My lifelong romance continues down the track
I will forever rejoice at the sound of clickety-click, clickety-clack

3. The Girl on the Train

       by Nancy Nelson

The girl on the train
looks out at the rain
but it isn’t the rain that she sees.

There’s a wisdom that steals
through the sadness she feels
and the thoughts that run through her mind.

A wisdom that tells her
that all will be well
she can leave all her sadness behind.

Ah, she’s young
but she knows
and already it shows
in her glance
that is steady and true

Yes, she rides on this train
away from her pain
to a life that is hopeful, and new

4. The Locomotive

       by Julian Tuwim

A big locomotive has pulled into town,
Heavy, humungus, with sweat rolling down,
A plump jumbo olive.
Huffing and puffing and panting and smelly,
Fire belches forth from her fat cast iron belly.

Poof, how she’s burning,
Oof, how she’s boiling,
Puff, how she’s churning,
Huff, how she’s toiling.
She’s fully exhausted and all out of breath,
Yet the coalman continues to stoke her to death.

Numerous wagons she tugs down the track:
Iron and steel monsters hitched up to her back,
All filled with people and other things too:
The first carries cattle, then horses not few;
The third car with corpulent people is filled,
Eating fat frankfurters all freshly grilled.
The fourth car is packed to the hilt with bananas,

The fifth has a cargo of six grand pi-an-as.
The sixth wagon carries a cannon of steel,
With heavy iron girders beneath every wheel.
The seventh has tables, oak cupboards with plates,
While an elephant, bear, two giraffes fill the eighth.
The ninth contains nothing but well-fattened swine,
In the tenth: bags and boxes, now isn’t that fine?

There must be at least forty cars in a row,
And what they all carry — I simply don’t know:

But if one thousand athletes, with muscles of steel,
Each ate one thousand cutlets in one giant meal,
And each one exerted as much as he could,
They’d never quite manage to lift such a load.

First a toot!
Then a hoot!
Steam is churning,
Wheels are turning!

More slowly – than turtles – with freight – on their – backs,
The drowsy – steam engine – sets off – down the tracks.
She chugs and she tugs at her wagons with strain,
As wheel after wheel slowly turns on the train.
She doubles her effort and quickens her pace,
And rambles and scrambles to keep up the race.
Oh whither, oh whither? go forward at will,
And chug along over the bridge, up the hill,
Through mountains and tunnels and meadows and woods,
Now hurry, now hurry, deliver your goods.
Keep up your tempo, now push along, push along,
Chug along, tug along, tug along, chug along
Lightly and sprightly she carries her freight
Like a ping-pong ball bouncing without any weight,
Not heavy equipment exhausted to death,
But a little tin toy, just a light puff of breath.
Oh whither, oh whither, you’ll tell me, I trust,
What is it, what is it that gives you your thrust?
What gives you momentum to roll down the track?
It’s hot steam that gives me my clickety-clack.
Hot steam from the boiler through tubes to the pistons,
The pistons then push at the wheels from short distance,
They drive and they push, and the train starts a-swooshin’
‘Cuz steam on the pistons keeps pushin’ and pushin’;
The wheels start a rattlin’, clatterin’, chatterin’
Chug along, tug along, chug along, tug along!

5. Strangers on A Train

       by Howl-

He stands in a crowded train
with his back to the windows.
An expressionless look sits on his face;
like a book written in a foreign tongue.
Its features noticeable
the curves
and slants of the writing recognizable
its beauty real but enigmatic.
A truly beautiful mystery.

As the doors slide open the air sweetens with the sweet smell of perfume
put on with subtlety.
She stands in an open spot an begins to look through the car for a spot to sit.
There is a focussed yet vacant look on her face as her magnetic eyes
scan from

Her gaze does not falter as she passes over the man
standing in his best suit and shiny shoes.
In the depths of her eyes
there is a flicker.
An instant of awareness
and imagination.
Encompassed in that insignificant scrap of time
a lifetime of memories could be stored,
stacked like firewood
embracing the inferno that lies before them.

Upon realizing her lack of alternatives,
she slides her purse onto her shoulder and prepares for the lurch forward.

When the train slows to a stop there is only silence.
The ambient noise of buzzing coughing and breathing becomes one
as the passengers approach a realm of solemn meditation.
He walks past her and their shoulders brush lightly.
The change is palpable.
It is almost as if the air around them began to crackle with electric excitement.

With the faintest of smiles he apologizes as he glances over his shoulder.

A faint rose coloured flush spreads across her cheeks as her eyes meet his.
Her lips begin to form a word as the doors close

As she stares into the space he once stood
it was as if nothing has ever happened.

Nothing physically had changed and even the mental recognition that was stored in a remote corner of her brain was fleeting,
like drops of rain in the ocean.

We are those drops of rain.
We fall endlessly, repeating the same cycle
year after year.

Our lives pass us by
and make memory a hopeless dream.

Strangers on a train.

6. Train

       by Cahit Sıtkı Tarancı

Where is it tonight?
Nice train, strange train?
Your whistle is very painful,
What brings a memory.
Is it too much I don’t shake a handkerchief;
Every traveler is more or less familiar,
Come on, have a good way;
The bridges you cross are solid,
Let the tunnels be bright.

7. In A Far Climate

       by Cahit Sıtkı Tarancı

In the warm air of a distant climate,
The sun, the earth, the sky, the sea merge together;
With ripe fruits, birds whisper,
Spring landscape among the branches.
In the warm air of a distant climate,
Sounds and scents go hand in hand;
Colors and shapes make love and agree,
In an orchestra of excellence.

In the warm air of a distant climate,
A man embraces the universe at all times,
In the carefree world of eternal love.

In the warm air of a distant climate,
All my loved ones share my hulya;
I am behind the windows, windows, windows!

8. Nightfall

       by Cahit Sıtkı Tarancı

Why are you keeping so quiet?
Do you say your song has run out
Or is the day over with your song?

Screams, this moment in which he dies,
Please, before the nights fill your eyes,
Give me your golden looks…

9. Animal Antics on the ‘D’ Train

       by Fanniesson

One has his feet on the seat cross from him
the other sitting next to him, definitely
of the same breed, has ear buds in ears
holding a conversation with him, ‘level ten volume’,
(you know) trying to talk over music blasting in his ears,
every other word out of his mouth a curse.
And the monkeys are extra amusing today,
maybe even one will get up and dance for me, before
reaching my stop.

10. The Engine Driver

       by Clive Sansom

The train goes running along the line,
Jicketty -can, Jicketty -can.
I wish it were mine, I wish it were mine,
Jicketty -can, Jicketty -can.
The engine driver stands in front —
He makes it run, he makes it shunt;
Out of the town,
Out of the town,
Over the hill,
Over the down,
Under the bridges,
Across the lea,
Over the bridges,
And down to the sea,
With a Jicketty -can, Jicketty -can,
Jicketty -can, Jicketty -can,
Jicketty -can, Jicketty -can…

11. Indian Train

       by Cignolago

At seven forty five we board the train
The platform is wet after the heavy rain
The journey ahead is roughly ten hours
The section where we are is mainly ours

It is very hot when we first get on board
Initially I think the air conditioning is flawed
Happily as soon as the train starts it comes on
My long Indian train trip has just begun

We stealthily make our way through the city
It is dark so nothing to see which is a pity
After a while supper is ready to eat
I have a biriyani sitting at my seat

The children are tireless jumping around
If we are to sleep we will need less sound
Maybe, with luck, they will settle down soon
If they do go silent it will be a definite boon

The time for my bed has come around
My bunk I have, after difficulty, found
The train is a cacophony of noise
I will struggle to sleep and retain my poise

Unfortunately as predicted it has come to pass
No sleep for me in this lumbering mass
Instead a night of tossing and turning
Come the morning my eyes are burning

12. In the Train

       by James Thomson

AS we rush, as we rush in the Train,
The trees and the houses go wheeling back,
But the starry heavens above the plain
Come flying on our track.

All the beautiful stars of the sky,
The silver doves of the forest of Night,
Over the dull earth swarm and fly,
Companions of our flight.

We will rush ever on without fear;
Let the goal be far, the flight be fleet!
For we carry the Heavens with us, dear,
while the Earth slips from our feet!

Short Train Poems

Get a quick fix of train poetry with concise and impactful verses that capture the essence of the locomotive and its allure. Let’s read some short poetries about train.

1. The Railway Train

       by Emily Dickinson

I like to see it lap the miles,
And lick the valleys up,
And stop to feed itself at tanks;
And then, prodigious, step
Around a pile of mountains,
And, supercilious, peer
In shanties by the sides of roads;
And then a quarry pare
To fit its sides, and crawl between,
Complaining all the while
In horrid, hooting stanza;
Then chase itself down hill
And neigh like Boanerges;
Then, punctual as a star,
Stop — docile and omnipotent —
At its own stable door.

2. The Rail Road

       by Jones Very

Thou great proclaimer to the outward eye
Of what the spirit too would seek to tell,
Onward thou go’st, appointed from on high
The other warnings of the Lord to swell;
Thou art the voice of one that through the world
Proclaims in startling tones, “Prepare the way;”
The lofty mountain from its seat is hurled,
The flinty rocks thine onward march obey;
The valleys lifted from their lowly bed
O’ertop the hills that on them frowned before,
Thou passest where the living seldom tread,
Through forests dark, where tides beneath the roar,
And bid’st man’s dwelling from thy track remove,
And would with warning voice his crooked paths reprove.

3. Train to Safety.

       by Stephanie77

She averts my gaze,
Her thoughts remain masked,
That pleasant but shallow smile
Plays a nostalgic game with her lips.

As she walks by her feet slide,
Ashamedly she lifts them alittle
Weighted strides, reminisce,
A bounce in her step that once was.

Her voice rings a note of a laugh
Chuckling nervously, timid, unsure,
Subtle, begging for a reason,
Laughter becomes her, if only it were real.

The shadows under her eyes,
Remnants of stories untold,
A dull reflection, opaque, hidden light,
Camouflaged in darkness, beyond my reach.

The winter wind tramples, giant reckless,
Wildly along the platform
Frozen, invisible, it trembles and gropes
Huddled passengers crowd together,
tense, seeking, desiring new destinations.

The song has been sung,
Low and silent, deliberate, and too often,
Secret mourner of love,
I implore you to leave.

4. Blind Faith

       by Caren Krutsinger

Woman with blind faith
wagon trains west
hard act to follow

5. Faint Heart In A Railway Train

       by Thomas Hardy

At nine in the morning there passed a church,
At ten there passed me by the sea,
At twelve a town of smoke and smirch,
At two a forest of oak and birch,
And then, on a platform, she:

A radiant stranger, who saw not me.
I queried, “Get out to her do I dare?”
But I kept my seat in my search for a plea,
And the wheels moved on. O could it but be
That I had alighted there!

6. Ghost Train

       by Anonymous

The history of the ghost train
is the hot hell of the foundry,
white metal seeding moulds.

The cold hammering of rivets
and rails work hardening
all the long days back to steam.

Most of all it is the people.
Unseen now they broke backs
for it and are now gone.

7. The Train Man

       by Anonymous

The dormant seas
In the minds of the indifferent
Won’t part
Much less move at all

Throwing sentiments and platitudes
At the man standing on the tracks
Of an oncoming train
Makes the train
Seem of more use

8. To A Lady Seen From the Train

       by Frances Darwin

O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?
O fat white woman whom nobody loves,
Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
When the grass is soft as the breast of doves
And shivering sweet to the touch?
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?

9. On the Train

       by Harriet Monroe

THE lady in front of me in the car,
with little red coils close over her ears,
Is talking with her friend;
And the circle of ostrich foam around her hat,
Curving over like a wave,
Trembles with her little windy words.
What she is saying, I wonder,
That her feathers should tremble
And the soft fur of her coat should slip down over her shoulders?
Has her string of pearls been stolen,
Or maybe her husband?

She comes smiling into the car
With iridescent bubbles of children.
She blooms in the close plush seats
Like a narcissus in a bowl of stones.
She croons to a baby in her lap —
The trees come swinging by to listen,
And the electric lights in the ceiling are stars.

10. Riders of Starry Train

       by R Byron

riders of starry train
sleeping nights like ashes
lovers upon a windowpane
reflecting mirrors in eyes of twinkled stars
starlight to open like a rose

Long Train Poems

Immerse yourself in the epic world of train poetry with long and immersive works that take us on a journey through time, space, and the human experience in these long poetries about train.

1. Up the Line

       by Will Carleton

Through blinding storm and clouds of night,
We swiftly pushed our restless flight;
With thundering hoof and warning neigh,
We urged our steed upon his way
Up the line.
Afar the lofty head-light gleamed;
Afar the whistle shrieked and screamed;
And glistening bright, and rising high,
Our flakes of fire bestrewed the sky,
Up the line.
Adown the long, complaining track,
Our wheels a message hurried back;
And quivering through the rails ahead,
Went news of our resistless tread,
Up the line.
The trees gave back our din and shout,
And flung their shadow arms about;
And shivering in their coats of gray,
They heard us roaring far away,
Up the line.
The wailing storm came on apace,
And dashed its tears into our fade;
But steadily still we pierced it through,
And cut the sweeping wind in two,
Up the line.
A rattling rush across the ridge,
A thunder-peal beneath the bridge;
And valley and hill and sober plain
Re-echoed our triumphant strain,
Up the line.
And when the Eastern streaks of gray
Bespoke the dawn of coming day,
We halted our steed, his journey o’er,
And urged his giant form no more,
Up the line.

2. Trains in the Grass

       by Annette Wynne

It’s fun to watch the trains go by
Across the world as in the grass you lie
So carelessly, and think far thoughts of cities gray,
And watch the smoke curls die away
Across the brook or in the trees;
It’s fun to lie quite at your ease
And dream that you are riding far
Inside the hurrying, clanging car.
How fast the train goes everywhere,
It seems to fly straight through the air,
And never touch the ground at all;
You see small boys—you try to call
To them as in the grass they lie;
So fast you fly
Before they answer you are by;
But there’s another boy not far;
You call out from your flying car
To him, and yet he never hears;
Just then a great big bridge appears
And you forget him, and look out
At all the moving things about;
You wonder if the people, too,
Look in, and wonder who are you,
And where you come from, is it far,
What kind of folks your people are.
All at once a bee goes by,
A May bug, then a butterfly,
A poppy shakes a dusty head
And you are in the grass instead;
And then you know that, after all,
You are the boy you tried to call,
You are the boy the people pass
Inside the train, that looking through the glass
They see outstretched in meadow grass;
And there you lie the summer day,
And see the smoke curls die away.

3. Song of the Railroad Train

       by Mrs. John Loye

How grand by night o’er the country side
Is that wild melodious strain;
And music blown at the eventide,
Is the song of the railroad train.
Its torn strains to our fireside trill
In the throes of the blizzard blown;
Or soar on high in the tempest rain,
So shrill, the song of the railroad train,
Oe’r the thunder’s loud detone.
Whose lonely cry can the herdsman hear
In the still ‘neath the starry sky,
As it fades away o’er the prairie drear,
And the coyote’s weird reply.
The Sioux bent with a startled ear
When first in the wilds it cried,
And echoed over the virgin plain,
So strange, the song of the railroad train,
And far in the foothills died.
I’ve heard that song in the midnight far,
From the spans of Victoria sound,
With the rumble of the tubular,
And the freight to the seaboard bound.
I’ve heard it rise from the Vermont hills
And float in the sunset o’er
The placid waters of Lake Champlain,
So plaint, the song of the railroad train,
And down by the wooded shore.
We listened once in the twilight shade
To the trains on the Erie far,
As they passed with many a blue brigade
To the fields of the Civil war.
The whistle blows in the gloaming still
From the bridge in the Portage glen,
Like Lincoln’s call to the North again,

You hear the song of the railroad train
That passed with the Union men.

4. The Iron Horse

       by Lewis Lamar

The iron horse is coming sure,
Our plodding days will soon be o’er:
The engineer has gone before,
To mark the way and make it sure,

Chorus: The iron horse is coming sure,
Our plodding days will soon be o’er.
With hoofs of steel, and iron-bound,
He’s coming sure to Middletown;

There’s work around for evermore
And feed enough for him in store.
If business fly, or pleasure hie,
Alike his best endeavors try;

If pressed with heavy loads, or light,
He moves along in brave delight.
To better markets swiftly bear
Our noble products, rich and fair;

Along the track he’ll bring us back,
The many precious things we lack.
Now “Van” may “Winkle” in his bed
And dormant lie, appearing dead;

The fogy croak and shake his head,
And tell us what grand-daddy said.
The days of steam are drawing nigh,
Our trudging days are passing by,

The iron horse is coming through,
His freighted train will soon be due.
The iron horse is all the talk;
We should not cease or make a balk,

But help along with friendly ties,
This great and public enterprise.
He’ll never come, the iron horse,
Unless we shall his way endorse;

Unless we take sufficient stock,
He’ll far away our wishes mock.
Chorus: The iron horse is halting now,
And we are trudging, trudging how.

5. In the Caboose

       by Ellen P. Allerton

“Train delayed? and what’s to say?”
“Blocked by last night’s snow they say.”
Seven hours or so to wait;
Well, that’s pleasant! but there’s the freight.
Depot loafing no one fancies,
We’ll try the caboose and take our chances.
Cool this morning in Watertown,
Somewhat frosty—mercury down;
Enter caboose—roaring fire,
With never an air-hole; heat so dire
That we shrivel and pant; we are roasted through—
Outside, thermometer thirty-two.
We start with a jerk and suddenly stop.
“What’s broke?” says one; another “What’s up?”,
“Oh, nothing,” they answer, “That’s our way:
You must stand the jerking, sorry to say.”
We “stand it” with oft this painful thought:
Are our heads on yet, or are they not?
Comrades in misery—let me see;
Girl like a statue opposite me;
Back and forth the others jostle-
She never winks, nor moves a muscle;
See her, as she sits there now;
She’s “well balanced,” anyhow.
Woman in trouble, tearful eyes,
Sits by the window, softly cries,
Pity—for griefs we may not know,
For breasts that ache, for tears that flow,
Though we know not why. Her eyelids red
Tell a sorrowful tale—some hope is dead.
Man who follows the Golden Rule,
And lends his papers—a pocket full,
Has a blank book—once in a minute
Has an idea, and writes it in it.
Guess him? Yes, of course I can,
He’s a—well—a newspaper man.
Blue-eyed fairy, wrapped in fur;
Sweet young mother tending her.
Fairy thinks it’s “awful far,”
Wants to get off this “naughty car.”
So do we, young golden-hair;
All this crowd are with you there!

6. The Train of Life

       by Vincent Moore

At birth we boarded the train
and met our parents, and we
believe they will always travel
on our side.

However, at some station
our parents will step down from
the train, leaving us on this
journey alone.

As time goes by,
other people will board the train;
and they will be significant
our siblings, friends, children,
and even the love of your life.

Many will step down
and leave a permanent vacuum.
Others will go so unnoticed
that we don’t realize
they vacated their seats.

This train ride will be full of joy,
sorrow, fantasy, expectations,
hellos, goodbyes, and farewells.
Success consists of having a
good relationship with all
passengers requiring that we
give the best of ourselves.

The mystery to everyone is:
We do not know at which station
we ourselves will step down.
So, we must live in the best way,
love, forgive, and offer the best
of who we are.

It is important to do
this because when the time
comes for us to step down
and leave our seat empty

we should leave behind beautiful
memories for those who will
continue to travel on the train of life.

I wish you a joyful journey on the
train of life.
Reap success and give lots of love.
More importantly, thank God for the

Lastly, I thank you for being one of
the passengers on my train.

7. The Whitsun Weddings

       by Philip Larkin 

That Whitsun, I was late getting away:
    Not till about
One-twenty on the sunlit Saturday
Did my three-quarters-empty train pull out,
All windows down, all cushions hot, all sense
Of being in a hurry gone. We ran
Behind the backs of houses, crossed a street
Of blinding windscreens, smelt the fish-dock; thence
The river’s level drifting breadth began,
Where sky and Lincolnshire and water meet.

All afternoon, through the tall heat that slept
For miles inland,
A slow and stopping curve southwards we kept.
Wide farms went by, short-shadowed cattle, and
Canals with floatings of industrial froth;
A hothouse flashed uniquely: hedges dipped
And rose: and now and then a smell of grass
Displaced the reek of buttoned carriage-cloth
Until the next town, new and nondescript,
Approached with acres of dismantled cars.

At first, I didn’t notice what a noise
The weddings made
Each station that we stopped at: sun destroys
The interest of what’s happening in the shade,
And down the long cool platforms whoops and skirls
I took for porters larking with the mails,
And went on reading. Once we started, though,
We passed them, grinning and pomaded, girls
In parodies of fashion, heels and veils,
All posed irresolutely, watching us go,

As if out on the end of an event
Waving goodbye
To something that survived it. Struck, I leant
More promptly out next time, more curiously,
And saw it all again in different terms:
The fathers with broad belts under their suits
And seamy foreheads; mothers loud and fat;
An uncle shouting smut; and then the perms,
The nylon gloves and jewellery-substitutes,
The lemons, mauves, and olive-ochres that

Marked off the girls unreally from the rest.
Yes, from cafés
And banquet-halls up yards, and bunting-dressed
Coach-party annexes, the wedding-days
Were coming to an end. All down the line
Fresh couples climbed aboard: the rest stood round;
The last confetti and advice were thrown,
And, as we moved, each face seemed to define
Just what it saw departing: children frowned
At something dull; fathers had never known

Success so huge and wholly farcical;
The women shared
The secret like a happy funeral;
While girls, gripping their handbags tighter, stared
At a religious wounding. Free at last,
And loaded with the sum of all they saw,
We hurried towards London, shuffling gouts of steam.
Now fields were building-plots, and poplars cast
Long shadows over major roads, and for
Some fifty minutes, that in time would seem

Just long enough to settle hats and say
I nearly died,
A dozen marriages got under way.
They watched the landscape, sitting side by side
—An Odeon went past, a cooling tower,
And someone running up to bowl—and none
Thought of the others they would never meet
Or how their lives would all contain this hour.
I thought of London spread out in the sun,
Its postal districts packed like squares of wheat:

There we were aimed. And as we raced across
Bright knots of rail
Past standing Pullmans, walls of blackened moss
Came close, and it was nearly done, this frail
Travelling coincidence; and what it held
Stood ready to be loosed with all the power
That being changed can give. We slowed again,
And as the tightened brakes took hold, there swelled
A sense of falling, like an arrow-shower
Sent out of sight, somewhere becoming rain.

8. Hell Bound Train

       by Anonymous

A Texas cowboy lay down on a barroom floor,
Having drunk so much he could drink no more;
So he fell asleep with a troubled brain
To dream that he rode on a hell-bound train.

The engine with murderous blood was damp
And was brilliantly lit with a brimstone lamp;
An imp, for fuel, was shoveling bones,
While the furnace rang with a thousand groans.

The boiler was filled with lager beer
And the devil himself was the engineer;
The passengers were a most motly crew—
Church member, atheist, Gentile, and Jew,

Rich men in broadcloth, beggers in rags,
Handsome young ladies, and withered old hags,
Yellow and black men, red, brown, and white,
All chained together—O God, what a site!

While the train rushed on at an awful pace—
The sulphurous fumes scorched their hands and face;
Wider and wider the country grew,
As faster and faster the engine flew.

Louder and louder the thunder crashed
And brighter and brighter the lightning flashed;
Hotter and hotter the air became
Till the clothes were burned from each quivering frame.

And out of the distance there arose a yell,
“Ha, ha,” said the devil, “we’re nearing hell!”
Then oh, how the passengers all shrieked with pain
And begged the devil to stop the train.

But he capered about and danced for glee,
And laughed and joked at their misery.
“My faithful friends, you have done the work
And the devil never can a payday shirk.

“You’ve bullied the weak, you’ve robbed the poor,
The starving brother you’ve turned from the door;
You’ve laid up gold where the canker rust,
And have given free vent to your beastly lust.

“You’ve justice scorned, and corruption sown,
And trampled the laws of nature down.
You have drunk, rioted, cheated, plundered, and lied,
And mocked at God in your hell-born pride.

“You have paid full fair, so I’ll carry you through,
For it’s only right you should have your due.
Why, the laborer always expects his hire,
So I’ll land you safe in the lake of fire,

“Where your flesh will waste in the flames that roar,
And my imps torment you forevermore.”
Then the cowboy awoke with an anguished cry,
His clothes wet with sweat and his hair standing high

Then he prayed as he never had prayed till that hour
To be saved from his sin and the demon’s power;
And his prayers and his vows were not in vain,
For he never road the hell-bound train.

9. All Aboard The Christmas Train

       by Sharon Lagueux

All aboard the Christmas train,
Come along and enjoy the fun.
We’re heading for the City of God,
Ready we are to meet His Son.

It may be the last freight,
The trains are going one way.
Hop aboard, bring the family,
Jesus invites you to come today.

See that star above the city?
The star of David will no longer shine.
The conductor has his signal on,
We best see it or be left behind.

Get your tickets free,
it Doesn’t cost a dime.
Hear that whistleblowing,
While the train is moving down the line.

O hear that whistleblowing,
you’ve got a ticket in Jesus’s name.
No need to bring any luggage,
Everything in heaven is arranged.

He knows if you been listening,
He knows if you’ve been nice.
He knows if you’ve been watching.
If your walking in the light.

All aboard the Christmas train
Got to move its, coming fast.
Better get your rear in gear,
Before the train runs out of gas.

Angels shall surround every city,
Their trumpets will blast the last call.
No, time to beat around the bush,
No, time for Santa, no time for the mall.

There’s plenty of gifts stored away
In God’s storehouse above
the gifts are free in abundance
Out of His kindness and love

The trains pulling up in every station
No time for cancellation.
Your fares have been paid,

The Christmas train is coming quickly,
Get on board, no time to delay.
Today we’re headed for the City of God,
Don’t look back, be ready for that great day.

The Christmas Train is a coming,
There’s a wedding being planned.
It’s time to celebrate,
the marriage of God’s Holy Lamb.

All aboard, the train is moving fast,
The whistleblowing now time to take a break.
God is making His last call,
Get your tickets before it’s too late.

No time for Rudolph,
No, time, for Santa and his sleigh.
No time for the presents,
You better hustle and be on your way.

The Lord is coming in a cloud,
Angels over every city shall hover.
The streets will be jammed with chariots,
and the Christmas spree will be over.

No time to hang the stockings
No time to decorate the Christmas tree
The lights of Christmas will go out in the city
All the glitter and the glee

The Christmas Train is a coming
Moving fast down one lane
If you miss it when it draws near
Perhaps your blind or just insane?

Come aboard the Christmas train,
Before it pulls away.
Hear that whistleblowing,
Hop aboard and do not delay.

There’s time to make a reservation,
Forget the Christmas huddle.
I’d be on that train before it leaves,
Before you stumble into satans jungle.

Had you heard that whistleblowing
Had you seen the headlights on the train?
Had you heard that train a-coming,
Know, it may never pass this way again.

10. A Gallop From The Train

       by William Henry Ogilvie

Though I can’t afford a hunter -more’s the pity,
I love a rousing gallop like the rest!-
Every morning as I travel to the city
I have five and forty minutes of the best.

As we leave our country station there’s a holloa
(If it’s but the engine whistle, never mind!).
By the window I am sitting, and I follow
where the horn of fancy tells me of a find.

Through the rattle of our going comes the chorus,
‘Tis a south wind and a proper scenting day,
There’s a topping piece of country spread before us,
And I’ll jump it all in fancy on the grey.

How he dances as I edge him through the others;
He is fond of this finessing for a start,
Just a little bit more eager than his brothers
By a beat, or maybe two beats of his heart

There’s a gap we know of leading from the stubble,
And we have it while the other people pass.
A crash behind us! Someone tasting trouble!
We are over, in the lead, and on the grass.

How he lays him down to revel in his freedom!
How he snatches at his snaffle as he goes!
The field will have to gallop when we lead ’em!
Hark, behind us! There’s another on his nose!

Here’s an oak rail with a trappy ditch behind it,
And I feel the little beggar-shortening stride.
It’s a big one, but I know he wouldn’t mind it
Were it twice as big and half again as wide!

So I catch him by the head a little shorter,
And his answer comes a-thrilling from the bit;
Then I lose him, and he flies it. What a snorter!
And he never made the shadow of a hit!

So we take those rasping fences -well, perhaps a wee bit faster
Than we’d take ’em if we were not on a train!
And there’s not a soul before us but the huntsman and the Master
And a toiling field is squandered once again.

By a grey suburban station, to the sullen air-brake’s grinding,
We kill our dog fox handsomely at last.
It was five and forty minutes to the finish from the finding-
And at fifty miles an hour ’twas pretty fast!

Train Poems That Rhyme

Delight in the musicality of train poetry with works that showcase the power of rhyme and meter to bring the locomotive to life. Here are some rhythmic poems on train.

1. The Railway Train

      by Anonymous.

The railway train is starting off,
The engine gives a hasty puff,
The bell is rung, the whistle blows,
The agent says “Right!” and off it goes.

Chorus—Ring, a-ding! A-ding! A-ding!
Puff! Puff! Puff!
Over the bridge, it shoots away,
Through the tunnel, dark all day,
Through the cutting or the plain,
Till it comes to the depot again!

The agent calls out Boston train,
Take your seats we’re off again;
Now, be quick with the baggage there,
The signal shows the line is clear,
Time and train for no men wait,
Off, off, ’tis getting late.

2. The Train Among the Hills

       by Sir Charles George

Vast, unrevealed, in silence and the night
Brooding, the ancient hills commune with sleep.
Inviolate the solemn valleys keep
Their contemplation. Soon from height to height
Steals a red finger of mysterious light,
And lion-footed through the forests creep
Strange mutterings; till suddenly, with sweep
And shattering thunder of resistless flight
And crash of routed echoes, roars to view,
Down the long mountain gorge the Night Express
Freighted with fears and tears and happiness.
The dread form passes; silence falls anew.
And lo! I have beheld the thronged, blind world
To goals unseen from God’s hand onward hurled.

3. Homeward, Ho

       by Ada A. Mosher

Onward we speed like a swift-speeding arrow
Winged from a bow!
Cleaving the winding land line long and narrow
‘Twixt clouds of snow.
Straight thro’ the mountain’s heart swiftly we burrow,
Laughing, the hills
Hail as we distance them down the long furrow.
How the race thrills!
Clouds, spent with following fast, give up their chasing;
Worsted the wind—
Baying on heels, panting hard in the racing,
Now—left behind!
Flash on! As lightnings are hurled above us
So be thy flight!
Swift to the soft clime where loved ones who love us
Wait us to-night!
Give chase to distance! Dear hearts!—to be with them
Is worth the chase!
Never a music to rival in rhythm
Thy muffled bass!
“Nearer and nearer!” Ah, melody-makers,
Match with your arts
Music of speed over sea or land breakers
To home-hungry hearts!
Match, if ye can, the glad sway of its meter.
Sadly prosaic
Your motif, I ween, to the pulse of its fleeter
Rough old trochaic!
Homeward, my famished heart, homeward we’re going,
Long since my sad eyes have dimmed with thy flowing,
Glad tears of joy.
Homeward! Their loving arras wait to caress me—
Slack not thy speed—
Bearing me faithful and fast! Oh, I bless thee,
Brave iron steed!

4. Lost Boy in the 3 A.M. Train

       by Anonymous

3 a.m. train whistle
clangs at the depot
stirring in the sweat
mortar rounds echoed

soldier lost wandering
in the orange sand
boy spent in the faces
chiseled splintered man

corners are for turning
hard to find the move
robbed by the shadows
black and darkened mood

deep inside the hallways
warrior’s brain did find
fire as the phoenix
breath to breathe alive

artwork in the rubble
Picasso in the trash
sunlight in the onyx
future sans the past

rivers of the new day
casted in the veins
painting on the canvas
mark the days of change

soldier casts off his cracking crown
in laughter lost boy is found

5. On the Projected Kendal and Windermere Railway

       by William Wordsworth

Is then no nook of English ground secure
From rash assault? Schemes of retirement sown
In youth, and ’mid the busy world kept pure
As when their earliest flowers of hope were blown,
Must perish; – how can they this blight endure?
And must he too the ruthless change bemoan
who scorns a false utilitarian lure

Mid his paternal fields at random thrown?
Baffle the threat, bright Scene, from Orresthead
Given to the pausing traveller’s rapturous glance:
Plead for thy peace, thou beautiful romance
Of nature; and, if human hearts be dead,
Speak, passing winds; ye torrents, with your strong
And constant voice, protest against the wrong.

6. A Journey by Train

       by Dr John Celes

A journey by train,
Kids simply love;
Eating and playing,
Joking, and fighting,
Without a lull.

A pleasant time indeed,
For most children,
It turns out to be,
As the train wends its way,
Through tunnels, grasslands,

And whistles through trees,
Over bridges, across rivers
Stations of towns, as miles fleet by
In hours of time, like in a revelry.

7. Thoughts on A Station Platform

       by Piet Hein

It ought to be plain
how little you gain
by getting excited
and vexed.

You’ll always be late
for the previous train,
and always on time
for the next.

8. From A Railway Carriage

       by Robert Louis Stevenson

Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And here is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart runaway in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill, and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone forever!

9. The Next Train.

       by Jai

Sometimes I can’t catch my breath enough to remember who I am.
Stripped bare of all personality that bares my soul for all.
A blank canvas with no inspiration to create.
The walls are stripped exposed, the residents have all but left.
The Echoing walls leave ringing tones in my ears, in my head.
Perhaps one day, I too can be like you.
Pack my bags and leave my mind behind.
Take the next train with me, I’d even give you my seat.

10. Train Tracks

       by Anonymous

closing my eyes and falling asleep on your shoulder
my body begins to shiver as it gets colder (only in my dreams)
never knowing me and you wouldn’t last
my heart is so broken; it sits in this cast
I have to leave this place
tie all this up in red ribbons and black lace

now I’m running away along the train tracks
knowing I could never look back
and I’m so cold that as my tears fall they freeze
I’ll never forget you telling me to leave
so this is goodbye; (I’m so sorry I lied)

the winter snow falls all around
enclosed inside a snow globe as i lie on the ground
thinking back to the day it was over
wishing I would find a four leaf clover
your words mutilated my soul
turned my black heart so cold

now I’m running away along the train tracks
knowing I could never look back
and I’m so cold that as my tears fall they freeze
I’ll never forget you telling me to leave
so this is goodbye; (I’m so sorry I lied)

Train Poems for Kids

Introduce children to the wonder of trains with train poems for children that capture the excitement and magic of rail travel.

1. Coal Train

       by Anonymous

Invisible cars
Behind the caboose
Of every coal train…
Black lung, miners
Buried alive,
Decapitated mountains,
Acid rain.

2. Conductor Carol

       by Dylan

Always ready for the ride
Her conducting skills were bona-fide

Her expertise was so enthralling
Moving trains was her calling

Townsfolk would all crowd their porch
As Conductor Carol would wave her torch

A hi-vis vest her best apparel
No one conducts like Conductor Carol

3. Like the Train’s Beat

       by Philip Larkin

Like the train’s beat
Swift language flutters the lips
Of the Polish airgirl in the corner seat,
The swinging and narrowing sun
Lights her eyelashes, shapes
Her sharp vivacity of bone.
Hair, wild and controlled, runs back:
And gestures like these English oaks
Flash past the windows of her foreign talk.

The train runs on through wilderness
Of cities. Still the hammered miles
Diversify behind her face.
And all humanity of interest
Before her angled beauty falls,
As whorling notes are pressed
In a bird’s throat, issuing meaningless
Through written skies; a voice
Watering a stony place.

4. The Shut-Eye Train

       by Anonymous

Come, my little one, with me!
There are wondrous sights to see
As the evening shadows fall;
In your pretty cap and gown,
Don’t detain
The Shut-Eye train –
“Ting-a-ling!” the bell it goeth,
“Toot-toot!” the whistle bloweth,
And we hear the warning call:
“All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!”

Over hill and over plain
Soon will speed the Shut-Eye train!
Through the blue where bloom the stars
And the Mother Moon looks down
We’ll away
To land of Fay –
Oh, the sights that we shall see there!
Come, my little one, with me there –
‘T is a goodly train of cars –
All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!

Swifter than a wild bird’s flight,
Through the realms of fleecy light
We shall speed and speed away!
Let the Night in envy frown –
What care we
How wroth she be!
To the Balow-land above us,
To the Balow-folk who love us,
Let us hasten while we may –
All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!

Shut-Eye Town is passing fair –
Golden dreams await us there;
We shall dream those dreams, my dear,
Till the Mother Moon goes down –
See unfold
Delights untold!
And in those mysterious places
We shall see beloved faces
And beloved voices hear
In the grace of Shut-Eye Town.

Heavy are your eyes, my sweet,
Weary are your little feet –
Nestle closer up to me
In your pretty cap and gown;
Don’t detain
The Shut-Eye train!
“Ting-a-ling!” the bell it goeth,
“Toot-toot!” the whistle bloweth
Oh, the sights that we shall see!
All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!

5. Waiting for A Train

       by Cadence

I am waiting for a train
A train that will take me home
Not knowing where that is
But still without a care.

Time ticks and the track is not set
The track that will lead me home
The skies cry to cover the track
And the mountains move to reveal it

As I wait I wonder where it will lead
But no one knows now
Only the conductor has the answer
Yet he is silent

I am waiting for a train
The train that will bring me home
Sure as the river meets the sea,
I swear that train will come for me.

6. Ghost Train.

       by Juliette Birch

Forbidding, there before us the tunnel mouth agape,
We walk from green and dripping trees, from rain and damp escape,
Now as we enter walls jut up and circle us above,
Brown and black from years of soot, and for the light no love,

Here at the entrance ferns have taken hold upon the walls,
But further on there’s now but black, venture further are we fools?
I heard that horses will refuse, and baulk at going in,
Faced with the dark, no sight of end, they do not hope to win….

The other side, for now not they, or us, what horrors lurk,
Within this tunnel through the hill, so full of filth and murk,
But with the daylight at our backs, tentative steps we take,
A little progress further on, resolution starts to quake,

For our path leads through I know, we have no choice, must go,
But fate may take our bravery for deliverance quid pro quo,
We do but hope, as tunnels mouth seems just an orb of light,
To carry on despite the tales, just doesn’t seem quite right,

For sitting round the fire, and listening to the old,
Talk of when once young, they dared, fool hardy, keen and bold,
Their stories seldom laughed at and none come hither now,
They made us swear as children, “DON’T!” We made a solemn vow,

But here we are, we reach the mid, our feet kick up the ash,
And as we reach the corner, see the tunnel end, a gash….
Of daylight, clear and green and bright, with sky that calls us on,
And hope I feel that we might make it to the vision yon,

So for salvation, hurry us through dark and black a pace,
And as we tread we feel a breeze, a wind upon our face,
But no fresh wind, it’s stale, and stinks of smoke and filthy steam,
We hear a blast, a whistle harsh, a screaming, shrieking dream,

With faces white, we push our hands and flatten to the wall,
A massive hulking shadow comes, a ghostly shouting call,
Of burning oil and iron, of banshee wailing brakes,
A fury of metal hurtles on, our breath, our life to take,

For no more do we see the light, this hell train it has blocked,
Our view of day with metal wrath, and we are all but locked,
Against the side, there can’t be room for us four souls and it,
Yet on it comes, and now I see the sparks from funnel spit,

Our hands reach for each other, and we fear this is the end,
As engine and five carriages wildly round our self-same bend,
I shout them all to close their eyes, I will not have them see,
The fire and smoke akin to hell that presses them and me,

My breath pushed back into my lungs, my head is forced right back,
Between my nose and speeding train, the air is just a crack,
My eyes though seared with molten soot, through terrored slits did see,
The dim lit engine, carriages, the driver roared at me,

With mad cold faces, passengers, dead eyes an inch away,
Held glasses high, with grey skinned hands, my lips began to pray,
This journey to the land of death, with fevered fury bent,
Was rushing past with noise and smoke, we knew not where it went,

But go it did for next we knew the silence of before,
For what had passed before us here, there was no natural law,
With faces blanched and eyes ablaze, with disbelief we walked,
Of words we’d none, how of this sight could rational mouths have talked?

And towards light we could not help but break into a run,
Did dare we think, with what had passed we’d ever see the sun?
Into the air, as we stepped out, a whistle far away,
A spirit sound that faded fast, as did the ghost train of that day.

7. “Train Cinquain”

       by Train Cinquain”

desire aboard
passage without baggage
whistle blowing winds steaming escape

and another

smiles excitement
horizons colorful
steaming wisps tantalizing taste

8. Sound of A Train

       by Anonymous

I am miserable,
There is neither a pretty lady to ease my heart,
In this city,
Nor a known face;
Whenever I hear the sound of a train,
My two eyes
Are two fountains.

9. Wagon Train

       by Becky

We are on our way to Oregon on a wagon train
our hearts are weighing heavy
feeling like a ball and chain

We didn’t want to move from home
and now its feeling strange
all our possessions on a wagon train
leaving this loving place

On our way to Oregon
no face we will easily place
this journey isn’t pleasant
and family feel disgraced

5th November 1850 time
its bitterly cold
and eyes began to cry

on our way to Oregon
feeling sad and low
family disagreed with us
then forced us out our home

This is our punishment
labeled as a state
no loving family to hold us tight
on this wagon train

10. Racing the Train

       by M.L. Kiser

Racing the train, only my dust remains;
eat it, Iron Horse; I’ll have no remorse.
When this road runs out, I’ll have a pout;
for now, blowing this rod out!

11. The Rabbit’s Train

       by Hazel Allen

The train is quiet tonight,
For its horn no longer speaks
Under the draft of the violet skies
Wallowing loudly above the tracks.

Bunnies used to stop and stare
As locomotives passed with a heightened
Sense of grandeur as the night slept on
And the mockery of the day began to rise.

But as rabbits grown old,
The silence of the great caboose
Brought unease through the folds
Of each one hopping around.

Like an ecosystem has come to grow,
Many have accepted the wagon’s purpose.
Yet, when it stops and silence fills the void,
The coney realizes that the end is finally near.

The train was quiet tonight,
For silence is a scream that
None of its herd can comprehend,
For the epilogue makes its noise,

Train Poems about Life

Explore the metaphorical power of the train as a symbol of life’s journey, its ups and downs, and the twists and turns that shape our destinies.

1. The Orphan Train

       by Kirbysman

The city streets are dirty, dank, and dark,
And long forgotten children gather there.
Bleak tenements cast shadows black and stark,
And empty stomachs growl, no food to share.

Those dull and empty eyes that see no hope
Are held again in blank and depthless stare.
Pale faces gaunt as orphans try to cope,
Their desperation breeds a cruel despair.

The uniforms appear, surrounding all,
And frenzied, frightened children dark ward dash.
There follows quickly a one-sided brawl,
And heads are bloodied by a truncheon’s crash.

They’re thrown in wagons, then sent off to jail,
A dreary cell till they can board the train.
A rag-tag group upon the western trail,
The past to lose – and everything to gain.

2. The Train [Suicide]

       by Anonymous

Hear the whistle of the train,
it’s loud musical laughter,
will drive you insane,
a smile on your face,
as the train comes your way,
it’s a quick way to end it all,
one trip; one way,
just a little leap to death,
hear the whistle calling,
see the smoke comig down the track,
“woo woo”
as the flashing lights mean it’s here,
it’s music keeps playing as the finale is near,
“woo woo”
jump on the track,
the train is coming
“clickity clack”
feel the vibratios so intense in your chest,
your thiking lord help me,
please make this fast,
“woo woo”
the tracks ping and ding,
as the train is insite,
and the whistle is blowing,
“woo woo”
the light,
the light so bright,
shining in your face,
your life shall end tonight,
“woo woo”
it’s here,
death’s hour soon nears,
the train speeds up,
with a
“clickity clack”

3. In the Train

       by Anonymous

Fields beneath a quilt of snow
From which the rocks and stubble sleep,
And in the west a shy white star
That shivers as it wakes from deep.

The restless rumble of the train,
The drowsy people in the car,
Steel blue twilight in the world,
And in my heart a timid star.

4. The Train Whistle

       by Bronze Winners

The conductor called out
“All aboard”
I can see the steam rising
Out from under the tracks
Hearing the train engine roaring
The boxcar starts to shake

I am thinking of him
What I have now left behind
As the train is gaining speed
I am starting over, a new life
Without you in it

I have a long train ride away
A new destination awaits me

“Waiter” a “dry martini Please”
My mind is on you. But my
Heart is in a different city

I am complete silence till
I hear the …..Train whistle

5. The Evening Train

       by Shrikant

It was a rainy, grey, dull day,
When the evening seemed to die
I tried to cheer my nostalgic self
When the evening train rolled by.

It seemed so grand from a distant point,
Charging through the rains.
It seemed like a glowing caravan,
Sent to free me from my chains.

But once in close sight, I saw the crowd
Of people jostling for space,
A hoard of mortals, like specs on time,
Who would fade without a trace.

I stood for a while watching them,
Not wanting to become a part.
But then realized that this last train
Was soon, going to depart.

With an uncouth force I heaved myself
Through the assembly of flesh.
What a carnival of shouts and shoves
Was awaiting me, in that wild glorious mess.

I found a place near the door
To barely place my feet,
Let alone my huge heavy sack,
With warm clothes piled in neat.

As time went by and the pulses calmed,
A strange stillness filled in.
Everyone was in sync with the other,
It wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

Through the door I could see the land,
Change its coat to green.
The buildings changed to small cozy shacks
As the train rolled past the scene.

As the cold winds ruffled up my hair
And caressed along my face,
My mother’s sad eyes flashed by,
That gentle silent gaze.

For a moment all the memories flashed of,
My parents, my home and my friends
Of those precious moments which,
I’ll cherish till the end.

The evening dwindled into the horizon,
The blue melting into grey.
The wisps of rain falling gently,
Onto the heavenly bay.

The rhythmic thrusts of the engine shafts,
Merged with the sweetness of that dusk.
Like a sublime drug it cast a trance,
Bracing like a ballast.

In that moment of glory,
My spirit met its kind.
In that moment of liberation,
It had finally found its shrine.

It was a rainy, grey, dull day,
When the evening seemed to die.
I looked forward with spirits anew
When the evening train rolled by.

6. Dementia, Train of Thought

       by Nik Pearce

perceived slights
and flights of fantasy
that never took place
roam unregulated
around the one way streets
and dead ends roads of her mind
where treasured moments and memories once resided
now confusion and sadness hold sway
and as time goes on
with each passing day
leads her down the lonely lane to nowhere
never to return to the life she once lived
the reminisces she craves are lost forever

7. Parallel Train

       by Uptonia

A thousand lines linger
Under the hum
Of air conditioners, and she

The warmth in the rumble
Of that parallel train.
Its waves sending leaves
Rustling, and their forces
Driving against her head

That never learned
To be still.
Just echoes droning on, silent
Eyes excuse the pain
And wait by the deserted track.

This is the expectation.

8. The last Train

       by Prateek Paliwal

I was waiting for you, I was waiting in vain..
I was waiting until there came the last train…
The doors opened, and I closed my eyes.
I opened them then, but I was in demise.
Everybody left, I was still there, I opened my eyes but you were no-where…
Maybe you forgot, it’s been many days
Maybe you are struck in some misleading ways…
How could you not be coming, I know you know the place
I gave you your time, you took your own space…
Maybe you are coming, but it has started to rain.
But don’t worry,
The sun will rise tomorrow and I’ll wait again

9. Ghost Train

       by D.M. Russ

You could hear the train whistle
every night around nine
listen to the breaks squealing
it was always there on time

you could see the smoke
blowing upright in the air
the strangest thing was
there wasn’t a train anywhere

ghost images of people
standing in a long line
all of them waiting for the whistle
to start loading on time

you heard the whistle blow again
as they started getting aboard
the craziest thing was
you never saw a door

you could hear the train depart
heading down the foggy tracks
listen to it in the far distance
until the next night when it came back

Train Poems and Journey

Embark on a journey of the senses and the soul with train poetry that captures the thrill of the ride, the beauty of the landscape, and the wonder of the human experience. Let’s read these train journey poems.

1. My First Train Journey

       by Ram Ashery

I was excited and nervous,
Travelling in train at first time.
Attending railway exam I was serious,
We reached the station at right time.
My friend boarded or not was suspicious,
Mobile phone was not at the time.
Safely we attended the examination,
I was lucky and the god is so kind.
Grace with sixty rupees at the station,
I picked up the money, told my friend.
It was my first and memorable occasion,
Never forget this happy and joyful trend.
We saw a movie after examination,
Next day in the morning boarded in train.
Returned home from attempting examination,
As i told to my parents about the happen.
All my friends enjoyed the lovely occasion,
What a nice and wonderful day in the life.

2. Goods Train at Night

       by Anonymous

The station is empty and desolate;
A sick lamp wanly glows;
Slowly puffs a goods engine,
Slow yet alive with great energy;
Drawing rumbling truck
After rumbling, rumbling truck;
Big, half-seen, insensate.
Yet each as it jolts through the glow
responds to the questioning light
Dumbly revealing
Diverse personality:

“Neal & Co.”; “John Bugs worth”; “Nor land Collieries
“Jolly & Sons”; “Jolly & Sons”; “Jolly & Sons”;

Thrice repeated, percussive, insistent
Each wet wall-side successively announcing
Names: badges and symbols of men,
Of men in their intricate trafficking
But there quickens a deeper emotion,
Roused by the iterant names,
Beyond the mere intricate commerce,
The infinite wonder of life.
Effort and hope and love, the heart’s desire,
Leap In the womb of the brain
As the trucks clang their way through the night.
Slides by the guard’s van at the last,
With a last definite clatter of steel upon steel
And a glitter of ruby-red light.

So: silence recaptures the station;
The damp steam eddies out;
The drizzle weaves a silver pattern,
An endless shining silver pattern,
A silver woof in the lamplight.
And I find myself full of a grief
A dull little grief for humanity.

3. The Wrong Train…

       by Anonymous

Guess I am taking the wrong train,
sitting on the wrong seat
waiting by the wrong window
watching out for you
every tormenting twilight,
as perspiring passengers hustle
and those in my frame of mind,
are acquainted to the scar behind my smile.

I ask the same question
again and again,
as there is nothing new
to occupy my muffled mind,
my life,
and there never will…

I browse through every message
you sent me on my cell phone,
every morning, afternoon and night,
when one day, they all stopped,
unforgettable words that left a mark in my heart,
and now you don’t even bother
whether I live or die.

Where are the days
when we used to hold hands together,
and walk the green sunny paths
as I gave you a kiss and a flower.
Am I to believe they’re gone forever?
And blame it on destiny?
Where are the days
when you’d say back then
You take my breath away”?

Why is everything so wrong?
Ever since the day you got on that train?

4. The Red Train

       by Anonymous

We escape from the pain of memories
Seeing children in distorted photographs
Run through picture books of abuse and pain

They escape through the salvation of the red train
Which shelters all from the rain
Stinging our backs filled with regret and pain
Won’t you run towards the red train

Flying through wisps of hair and broken fingernails
Not all can catch this salvation on wheels
Running fast on cracked heels
Dearest sister run and save your sisters from the pain
Can’t you hear the sound of the train
Little orphans take your abuse from the rain
And give your heart to the red train

The rain pours harder it doesn’t want you to leave
From daddy’s bad touches and mommy’s lost mind
It cracks down like a whip, run to be free
From the wilderness  and lost innocence that left you behind

We all run for the red train
Hearing its whistle through the pounding rain
Won’t you please save us from this pain
And help us aboard the red train

Were there on the back climbing up ladders and chains
Through the door
Words that never cross the oceans of ethereal subconscious

The rain crashes on the roof and slowly subsides
You can barely hear it now, nothing but a sprinkle
The tunnels ahead now, hear the engine roar
We know not what comes but it must be better
We enter eternal darkness and the rain stops
We see nothing but…….Headlights

Hear the ever whistling of the train
Saving your life from this eternal pain
Won’t you take your pain from the rain
And ride aboard the red train
Through tunnels of darkness, no light at end
We are sure life will start over again

5. Bullet Train

       by Anonymous 

Life’s like a movie, projected all around
me and its going a mile a second
I’m running so fast and the blood in my veins can’t keep up
Pump pump I hear my heart chant
I’m leaving everything behind, but I can see so much ahead
slow down, no I can’t, I need to reach the end of the line, when time slows down
shiny, it’s all so shiny
I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t know what I’m saying
But I like it, this feeling like a bullet train
I see myself acting on the screen, is it me? No it can’t be, I’m here watching my life not living it, I’m just along for the ride.
It’s a robot, it has to be, a robot with my eyes and ears, a robot on autopilot!
Faster, faster I scream silently, I need to reach the end, to take control
The movies getting blurry, the wind screaming in my ears, I scrunch my eyes and hold my ears

Run, I have to keep running, my feet pounding on destiny, follow the rickety trail that is my fate
I open my eyes, it’s all slowing down, the screen it’s paused.
I look ahead, there it is, the end.
It’s wrong, it’s all so wrong
I don’t want it, I don’t like it
I have to go back, turn around, lift those feet, I have to change this, destroy the robot
I won’t end up like that, I can’t
My breath so ragged, my feet scrapped raw and bloody.
Tired, so tired, fall to my knees, no don’t let it end like this
Oh god why was I so eager to get here? I just want a chance to do it again, to be there living my life and not watching it on a screen.
I see it now, I shouldn’t have closed my eyes, the fork in the road, I followed the wrong path, chose the wrong destiny.
I sigh and bow my head
This is the last stop on the line, I’ve reached the end
Close my eyes for the final time, let out that last breath
I’m gone, but I was never really there to begin with

6. Mumbai Train Ride

       by Sheldon132

The most spectacular thing in this city
Is the local train ride
No matter how good and kind you are
You better be standing on the right side!
You want your entry to be good
And your exit even better.
LOL dude, you know not these city trains
Dumped like birds, you can’t even flutter
A place to vent your frustration
A place to take your sleep
If you catch the train at a certain time
You’ll find guys consoling their girls who weep.
Just sit quietly and observe
You’ll get to hear the best of tales.
This is one of the few places in Mumbai
Where even a timid girl will be confident among so many males.
Once you enter the train
If you are lucky, you may even get a seat
Gents are more understanding than the ladies
But just ensure that you don’t step on anyone’s feet!
All the newspapers and sites in the world
Won’t give you as much information as you learn here
You’ll learn the simple, mother sister or even hybrid abuses
But this knowledge, in your family, you dare not show dear!
A male, bored and alone I am
Just praying to be in a train at the right time.
Either I’ll find a hottie in my compartment
Or else I’ll sit and make up a rhyme!

7. Time Travel Train

       by Anonymous

all aboard
welcome from time travel trains
those going back in time
please sit in the rear cars
going to the future
move to front of the train

tickets please
this train’s not going to a place
it’s going to a time
when you step off you’ll
arrive in your ticket year
unless you fail to follow instructions

after all you’re taking a trip
to the year of your choosing
if you’re not satisfied too bad
we promise to deliver you there
no satisfaction guaranteed

adventures await
take a ride to the wild wild west
or out into deep space to
explore distant planets like
jupiter, saturn, neptune or mars
you pay we’ll see you there safely

oh by the way
this train only goes one-way
no round-trips allowed so
best be planning carefully
take your seats dinner
will be served at three

chugga lugga chugga lugga…….

8. Hit by A Freight Train

       by Nancy Alicia Garcia

distant thunder rumbles
wheels click-clack down the line
then wailing whistles warn
the train’s rounding the bend

hogtied on commuter tracks
you wait, slack jawed, owl eyed
guts weighted by ballast
crow’s feet and graying hair

praying the conductor
will veer along a switch
hands and feet are frozen
by a cold unswerving eye

racing closer, closer
belching fumes of fate
leaving bloody road kill
squashed by a racing train

9. The Train of Life

       by Anonymous

Life is like a journey on a train, with its stations,
Change of routes, differing scenes, and accidents!
At birth we boarded the train and met our parents,
And we believed they would always travel at our side.
However, at some station down the line our parents stepped off,
Leaving the train and us alone to continue on our own.
As time passed, other people boarded the train;
And they were significant: siblings, friends, children,
And even the Love of our life.
Many will step down and leave a permanent vacuum.
Others will go so unnoticed that we didn’t realize

That they had vacated their seats.
This train ride will be full of joy, sorrow, fantasy,
Expectations, hellos, goodbyes, and farewells.
Success consists of having a good relationship with all the
Passengers … requiring that we give the best of ourselves.
The mystery to everyone is: we don’t know at which station
We ourselves will be asked to step off. So we must live
In the best way – Love, forgive, and offer the best of whom
We are. It is important to do this, because when the time
Comes for us to exit, leaving our seat empty, we should
Leave behind beautiful memories for those who will
Continue riding the train of life without us.

I wish you a joyful journey for the remaining years on
Your train of life. Reap success, give lots of love, and
Be happy. More importantly, be thankful for your journey!
Lastly, I thank you for being one of the passengers
On my train.

10. Snow to Water Train

       by Saiom Shriver

When to snow freezes
the sky gift rain
it can be shoveled
into ships and trains
it can to drought areas
bring mercy in its train
with blessings for all
in its liquid refrain.

Final Thoughts

Trains have the power to evoke a sense of wonder, nostalgia, and adventure in us all, and train poetry harnesses that power to take us on a journey of the soul.

From the rhythmic chugging of the locomotive to the stunning vistas that pass us by, train poems transport us to a place where anything is possible.

Whether we’re laughing at the quirks of rail travel, pondering the mysteries of life’s journey, or simply reveling in the thrill of the ride, poems for trains offer a unique and unforgettable way to experience the world.

All aboard for a journey of the senses and the soul!

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