Golden Train Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal
Golden Train
Golden train
It was golden train
In my dream it remained
As father was stem engine driver
I always thought about him and became day dreamer
I will rush with Tiffin box
And always focused
On fresh hot food
He really enjoyed
I was his lovely child
He was mild
With words always kind
I always probed to find
Any whistle from rail track side
Invite my attention to decide
What shall he be doing?
What will he be thinking?
One day he came home
With chest pain
He spoke nothing
But fell down
I cried for help from outside
Everyone rushed
But he had flown with his whistle
My golden train was now lying idle
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5/4/2024 3:50:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I cried for help from outside Everyone rushed But he had flown with his whistle My golden train was now lying idle