So we boarded the Northern train
in howling winds and stinging rain,
the guard, his duties now performed
gives one last cry of all aboard.
checks all the carriage doors are closed,
with green flag raised his whistle blows
as if some giant devil’s sneeze
our fiery steed, his power released,
above our heads luggage overflows
where dim bare-bulbed lanterns softly glow
we settle in the deep velour seating
comforted by the piped steam heating
upon leaving the station far behind
we catch the rhythm of the lines
windows sealed keeping out the chill
the rhythmic, rocking, motion will
enfold us with it’s gentle charm
as we snuggle into the well-padded arms
after eight long hours the race is run
to our right we glimpse the rising sun
our destination now not far ahead
where reluctantly our journey ends
and sadly we’ll depart the Northern train
counting the days till we ride it again
When the pen takes control. 