TRAIN WHISTLE
I heard the haunting sound of the train whistle blow,
Far across the deep forest the sound seemed to go,
Maybe someone going home at a lonely whistle stop,
Or goods being delivered to the empty logging shop.

Every time I hear it blow especially in the dark of night,
I think of folks going home, their eyes burning bright,
A warm welcome coming from old friends and family,
Home where for ages that person has longed to be.

But the haunting sound could mean someone waited in vain,
Another train rolled by, not stopping, always being the same,
The hopes build up high as that whistle so loudly calls,
But hopes and joy are shattered for there are no foot falls.

Maybe one day the haunting whistles will sweetly blow
And out of the darkness, there a familiar face will show,
Then that sound will be like an angel’s sweetest song,
As a loved one returned home to where he does belong.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson June 28, 2002