Brighter than comets passing through flame
I glide like a queen, for 'The Tram' is my name.
Now as I speed I sing to tall spires
A song of enchantment and low humming wires.
Sometimes I sing to the Day when it's light,
When the road lies before me, a ribbon of white.
Often as nightfall's black arms round me wrap
The road looks to me like a black leather strap.
I splash through wet patches left there by the rain,
Then I shine my bright lights and speed off once again.
The smooth metal rails gleam like silver, then flash,
As I gobble them up with such speed as I dash.
When I come to a stop I grind hard with my brakes,
'Til my windows all rattle with shudders and shakes.
Some say I'm old-fashioned and now out of date,
But I'll just not believe them, I'll sit still and wait,
For I've heard there's a party of young girls and boys,
And if they're not naughty and don't make much noise
I'll take them, and show them how fast I can go,
Whoever they are, they'll love me, I know!
by
Shirley Frances Winskill 1985
