The sound of pitter-patter of rainLessened by the thunder of the rushing train.
As it plunged into a lovely scenery
Full of hills and lot’s of greenery.
Then it slowed down
Stopping at a station with a frown.
Another sweep of people rushed out.
Other people tried to get in
Like seawater going back into the river mouth.
The Iron Horse galloped through hills and plains
Trying to outrun the torrential rains.
Hoot! That was the engine’s call
Each time it reached a station big or small.
Finally, it’s destination it reached,
Into the station with a screech.
-- Wrote this when I was 13 years old. Mrs. Ishita Khanna had asked us to write poems after class on the Vocation by Rabindranath Tagore.
