Originally published: 11th July 2020
Image: gR
This poem was placed 1st in the "STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (8) any theme any form" contest sponsored by Brian Strand (Judged 12th July 2020)
lit up with the power to attract and excite and framed by a window of the toy shop that night a miniature world of trains, bridges and hills took my mind off the cold from the late autumn chills. there were signals that moved and tables that turned and lights in the engines as if coal had been burned frustrated by others who had gathered there too I pushed them aside for a much better view. I stood there transfixed and stared through the glass at the landscape of plaster and fields of fake grass I watched as the locos passed by on the track to then vanish through tunnels somewhere at the back. there were small plastic figures all standing in line frozen on platforms and frozen in time they weren't duly bothered they'd missed the last train safe in the knowledge it would be round again. Christmas was near and if things worked out right I'd be playing with trains Christmas morn, noon and night but I let out a sigh before turning to go - I had already asked and my wife had said "no".
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