Recently I was asked to write and perform some poetry for an event in my home village to remember the closure of Queensbury Railway Station 60 years ago. These are the poems I wrote. I wanted to capture the life of the railway rather than go into historical details. I hope I did this.
A hill stands in the way
Tons of earth lain here for years
Nothing has moved it
Not wind, rain or snow
Until now
Until now with the overwhelming desire of men
To get through to the other side
Underneath the village of Queensbury
To the town of Halifax
And navvies come from all around
To move earth and dig the tunnel
And with pickaxes and spades
They move lumps of mud and clay
And slowly a tunnel begins to form
Deeper underneath Queensbury they go
Determined to reach Halifax
And lay the tracks of the railway
A rumble deep underground as the
Slaughter line comes crashing down
And a wife and child are fatherless
Penniless, homeless
The price for some was high
But the men must carry on
In order to achieve their goal
And then
A chink of blinding light
Penetrates the blackness
And there is Halifax
1 1/2 miles through earth and stone
The men have built the Queensbury tunnel
—————————————–
The tunnel is finished, complete
Tons of earth above will not fall in
The people of Queensbury can
Sleep peacefully
As the lines that will carry trains go down
Mile after mile of cold, hard steel
Sleeping on beams of wood
Forever trapped in the damp darkness
Waiting for the steam train
To wake them up as it takes
The workers and holiday makers
To their destinations
——————————-
And through the train comes
Thundering through the tunnel
As the village of Queensbury
Silently shudders overhead
Residents deep in sleep
Unaware of the mechanical violence
Happening far below
——————————-
And the train clanks and clunks to a halt
At the Queensbury triangle
Hundreds of people get off
And rush up Station Rd
It is long and steep
But they have no choice
The train was late
But they cannot be
Wages will be docked if they are
And someone will go hungry
———————————–
The day has been long and hard
Stood at the end of a loom
In a room filled with smoke
Noise, blood, sweat and tears
A child lost an arm today
No-one will see him again
And now the journey home begins
Tired limbs hurry down Station Rd
The train waits for them
Covered in soot and grime
Ready to take the workers
Into the darkness of the tunnel
One last time
————————-
And so it goes on
Day after week after month after year
Passengers go to and fro
Carrying cargo and coal
From work to home
For business and pleasure
Every hour of every day
The trains never stop
Not even for snow
———————–
But then stop it does
Passengers in 55
Cargo in 56
The lines go in 63
The air is quiet and still
Without the noise of the
Trains to disturb it
Nature reclaims the tunnel
For its own
——————
Now 60 years has past
Since the last passenger
Train ran on the Queensbury line
But plans are afoot to
Reopen the tunnel
And once again
Allow people to
Travel underneath Queensbury
This time by
By foot and by bike
For business and pleasure
As their ancestors
Did all those years ago
