My grandma lived over the track
One up, one down, in a house painted black
A stile over the fence to the well out back
Oxlip meadow, goats and a wood stack
If I crossed the lines I’d get a smack
Cos my grandma, you see, lived over the track
Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge
My grandparents lived beside the Norwich to London line, and the only way to it was across the track. My mother was terrified I’d wander across on my own; never paying attention, in a world of my own.