Category Archives: childhood memories

WHAT SAYS “NEW ENGLAND” ?

My model layout wanders it seems

Away from cherished themes…

What for you

Says “New England” too,

Beyond operational schemes?

 Does NISSEN BREAD,

MOXIE, barns red,

SPAGS and stores

With “colonial” decors,

Monuments to Revolutionary dead?

Dairies and granite quarries

In earlier days held stories…

Ice cream and views

Along the Turnpike count too,

And whaling ship stories!

Broad “a’s” in speech,

A Kennedy’s reach…

Where Plymouth Rock stays

And Sturbridge Village ways

Are preserved to history teach!

So for my small train set,

What industries are best…

Beverages and rock salt

Metals, food stuffs sought,

And historic touristy nests?

Gravel still travels by train,

Lumber and minerals same…

Environmental ire

Has dampened coal fired

Power plants, but garbage still flames!

A water-powered mill

And museum of trains fit the bill…

For small excursions

Of rich incursions into filling the local till!

Do you think I’ll have enough room,

I figure some things will die soon…

New England gives

And takes to live,

But survival cannot be assumed!

–Jonathan Caswell

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MID-FEBRUARY HAIKU ASSORTMENT

(Each individual three-line haiku is considered a poem on its own,

despite perhaps being related to a common theme.–J.E.C.)

(Additionally, haiku may or may not include punctuation—traditional haiku generally do not  have it –J.E.C.)

Presidents’ Day off

Waving away package trucks

Skeleton crew on

American loss,

Long weekends not historic…

Blurred history lost!

High snow banks turn brown

Road salt stains on pavement grey

Waiting for snow days

Plow trucks stand idle

Except for salting road ice

No more overtime?

Winter buds wonder

Is it time to grow and sprout?

Freeze burnt other years…!

Swans in ponds feeding

Youngsters finally on their own

Mommas drove them off

Easter candy sales

Set up before the fourteenth

Valentines half off

–Jonathan Caswell

BACK—TO A SCRAP METAL YARD!

Layout planning changes,

History one rearranges…

In the seventies around here

Boats to carry scrap appeared,

In Boston to be filled before market price changes.

When a boat arrived

all area scrap yards came alive…

To fill this boat

all would devote,

A few weeks and then stay alive.

Thus like grain or snow,

Scrapyards have seasonal flow…

Like winter for salt

In autumn would start,

Ship arrival told when to load.

Where was this metal heading,

Japanese car makers  getting…

Ready to sell

More cars that kept well,

Unlike the American vetting!

Rolling stock needed I’ll use,

Body shells from old “choo-choos”…

A yard with two tracks,

‘Though I might take one back,

Lots of switching for short line train crews!

–Jonathan Caswell

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–Jonathan Caswell

A TOAST TO FRIENDS PRESENT AND MISSING…AT CHRISTMAS TIME!

People we miss and love,

Missing or taken above…

Oh how we miss

Their joy or hiss,

Their gentle comments or rough!

Among them is Esther Ling,

She was in the lesbian thing…

Opposite were we

But she was a Mommy,

Ran to her when figuratively I needed mothering!

Numerous friends I had in school,

Have slipped or drove away (I’m the fool)…

Some I drove away

Or ignored to this day,

Elementary through college kept only two

Bloggers–many follow some not–

Never sure of how many give you thought…

Over a thousand mine

To whom I give little time,

Just a handful  of their blogs I’ve sought!

Surrounded by my family we are,

Been slow to contact any (my par)…

Younger ones I don’t know

As familiar ones go,

What can I do, having delayed thus far?

Does any of this make sense,

Is loss of your friends as immense…

I’m sure it is–

Friends we miss,

We remember  our friends in the past tense!

–Jonathan Caswell

TRAPPIST FOODS

When J. J. NISSEN folded,

My image of a bakery molded…

Its replacement too big

So I had to dig,

To see what research “beholded”.

My past is in two places–

It one ever traces–

The lines of “me”

Diligently

For personal data chases!

Massachusetts, New York State,

My two major windows of fate…

Born here

But raised over there,

Memories in both are great.

One of my faves was Monks Bread,

A Trappist Monastery did…

And still does

The bread funds their cause,

Producing jams, jellies, plus all kinds of bread!

A model flat against the wall,

Leaves hardly space at all…

Have to use what I have

Of plastic walls saved,

Modeling a bakery et. al.

So I thought of TRAPPIST FOODS,

A catch-all title to use…

Producing bread

And conserves, I said,

Switching different train cars is a ball!

Specifically, flour and fruit,

Corn syrup and sugar to boot…

Isn’t enough?

They brand other stuff,

The question of a brewery—moot.

MONKS BREAD  from Western New York,

From that Trappist Abbey of course…

A college friend

Heading toward that end,

Found a wife and went in another!

–Jonathan Caswell

MEMORIES OF CHRISTMAS TRAINS

EDAVILLE is where one goes,

Riding narrow rails when it snows…

Christmas displays

Along rights of way,

all lit up in lights!

The “North Pole Express” is running,

All over the country by cunning…

Railroad lines

Wanting happier times,

Santa they know is coming!

Look in the papers to see,

Where Christmas trains are running shortly…

It’s worth paying

For children’s playing,

Making positive memory!

–Jonathan Caswell

THREE RAILS TO WONDERMENT!

A train trip around the tree,

In wonder imaginary…

Looking for sparks

From wind-up Marx,

At Christmastime under the tree!

–J.E.C.