Hinchley Wood station

The platform and station, the pedestrian bridge,
With rivots and panels across every ridge.
The branch line curves gently, the station has two;
Takes passengers in coaches to Waterloo.
Memories of train sets, those old iron frames;
Model railway assembly a playful mind game.
The facia, the hoarding, the shelter it gives;
Ferrying commuters from wherever they live.
Those early morn sleepers supporting the rails,
To be the train driver, telling of foot plate tales,
Dream of my father, like many a boy,
Would have to make do with their favourite toy.
Hinchley Wood station you living train set,
Need steam locomotive for idyll be met;
Engaged by the engines, the wandering mind,
Guage double o somewhere I think I can find;
Hidden aloft when last put away .
Be Station Master for the rest of the day!