Thursday, December 15

A Poem for Thursday.

The End of the Line

Let’s go and live at the end of the line.
Where breakers fall over rolling stones.
We’ll board the train that we rode when young,
Watch how the steam mists our view of the sea
As it hisses and cools on the iron and the brass.
And the cry of the gulls as they dive, as they soar
Will welcome us back
Will welcome us back.

Let’s board the train that we rode long ago,
Where the end of the line will have water and sand.
We’ll be welcomed again by the crying of gulls
The smell of spun sugar and hot lardy chips.
There, will be space enough for our thoughts
And salt winds that blow away stale urban fog.
To welcome us back,
To welcome us back.

They say that the crust is beginning to crack.
That the cold winds of change are blowing our way.
Yet when I take the journey again to the end
Of the line, where the seagulls are soaring above
To the edge of the tide, to the line in the sand.
The memory of all of things, of all being well
Embraces me back
Embraces me back.

This one has been linked to the gooseberry garden random poems week 17 ..."nostalgia"


  1. Great poem and love the pictures too! xx

  2. I love this... going home and being welcomed by those things of you're memory; so heartfully written.

    "The breakers." "And salt winds that blow away the stale urban fog." "cold winds of change"
    __The sea gulls seem to be busy today!

    Best wishes, Gerry! _m

  3. A wonderful poem I love the imagery of live your life again ...

  4. Can't read this without welling up!

  5. This was nostalgia - and then some. I lapped it up. Wonderful stuff, took me right back.

  6. I love this Gerry - one of the best things about living by the sea is that one takes the train to the end of the line.

  7. I love love love this! And I want to take a trip to the end of the line...

  8. What a wonderful poem Gerry. I love the sea, the seagulls, the salt winds that blow away the urban fog ... love it.... and I love the picture of the sea!
    Grethe ´)

  9. Wonderful sentiment, I will ride the train to the end of the line or they kick me off whichever comes first and along the way I will be the fool standing on top of the cars singing my own seagull song and forgetting to duck when the bridges sneak up on me.

  10. I shall be there then to see you walking man...cheering you on and applauding you for making it to the end!

  11. Love this! Where I live right down in Hastings, so far on the edge of things that big business perennially gives up on it, feels just like that poem. And I love the picture, as well as the Sunday ones of the Advent candles. x


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