A Journey

 

When I travel my luggage is in excess

This makes for little success

When I stand on my local station

I attract a good deal of attention

This never ceases to amaze

Why other passengers look and gaze

I stand on the platform modestly attired

Twenty suitcases, hat boxes with hand luggage,

because I am retired

I refuse to leave home and be without

This makes the porters scream and shout

Trolleys are sent for and extra hands

I long for the days of farewell bands

Ocean liners really were the best

Public transport is a bloody pest

Compartments today are seldom empty

And it is a struggle to gain entry

I search for space to place my cases

It is not as if I am off to the races

Once asked if I had the kitchen sink

Made me realise how rude people think

Hotels and liners have ample room

Minding not if my hat has a plume

Hat boxes, I know, are an awkward shape

My cases are not in the best of shape

Travel is not what it used to be

When one could be out at sea

Public Transport is a nightmare

With no First Class I refuse to be there

I travel in style as I have always done

And believe me it is much more fun