T. M. D.

A Poem by Frank Brown©Frank Brown 1948

Just a driver on the railway,
Well known on every line,
My name is T. M. Dobson,
I'm O.K. every time.

If I left Enfield twenty late,
It wouldn't trouble me;
The password at Katoomba box
Is, "O.K., T.M.D."

I never start those bush fires
You see along the line,
My sparks and rockets never fall,
But I'm O.K. every time.

I love to view the glorious sights
As along the rails I send her;
But the only sights my fireman sees
Is the firebox and tender.

For many miles, on many trains,
With wool, and coal, and wheat,
And like the man from Snowy River,
I never shifted in my seat.

But when the journey's ended,
And you call for two or three,
You'll hear the old familiar voice,
"Have these on T.M.D."

And now that I've retired
It's a pleasure great for me,
When old mates grip my hand and say,
"You're O.K., T.M.D."

And when I meet Saint Peter,
I know he'll say to me,
"There's no need to see your history sheet,
You're O.K., T.M.D."

Notes

From Frank Brown's 1948 book "Engine 1174 and Other Verses"