Saturday, June 20, 2009

Yep. Another poem.

Here's a poem for the England people who I know must be homesick for trains. Wendy Cope is a lovely British poet I just discovered; check out her stuff at

On a Train

The book I've been reading
rests on my knee. You sleep. 

It's beautiful out there - 
fields, little lakes and winter trees
in February sunlight,
every car park a shining mosaic. 

Long, radiant minutes,
your hand in my hand, 
still warm, still warm. 


Jamie said...

You should check out Wendy Cope's limerick retelling of The Wasteland.

Raj Shukla said...

that was nice!!