Member Poem

Just imagine for one five minutes,
as you wipe the sleep encrusted,
layers from that visualising duo,
known as eyesight for us earthlings,
that powerhouse and doorway to sight,
one should relish such felicity ,
when an early rattling surreal dawn,
train without a single unique soul,
inside its carriage that’s if one can,
envision such an entity at all,
against some hue-endowed canvass,
a hinterland of elevation cascade,
the sort that might induce the tardy sleeper,
and they would  form a swollen number,
amongst a coterie diverse without doubt,
if one can rhapsodise from distant vantage,
what a passenger might truly savour,
even from a fleeting window glimpse,
then the eye is that optimal commuter,
who needn’t fret on such woolly matters,
as means of transport or conveyance