~*~
Behind a model train, people there set.
Their never to worry nor do they fret.
The whistles blow at regular times.
Conductors conduct and the poet rhymes.
~
Silence fills the darkest of night.
A world dead ‘til morning’s light.
A flick of a switch then life turns on.
A flick of a switch and all is gone.
~*~
Sck041218
