Moving house: poetic ode to the Northern Line

Goodbye Northern line!
Goodbye, goodbye!
Five years you’ve carried me,
And now I say goodbye.

Like a rough lover,
You swept me off my feet.
Lolita in your lap,
Kisses…not so sweet.

Branching fingers,
Bewildering, breaking,
Endlessly engineering,
Too oft forsaking.

I have wondered at your length,
I have explored your every zone.
By day I feel your rumble,
At night I hear you moan.

I wandered through your Woodside Park,
You cupped the Oval of my heart.
East Finchley was all air and light,
Tooting Bec has been alright.

With weary feet,
I trace your spine,
Each vertebra familiar,
On the Northern Line.

Goodbye my Cleopatra, 
My thunderous Nubian queen.
We’ll be on the move shortly,
And the signal ahead is green.

Next time our paths cross,
You’ll be no longer mine.
I’m off to greener pastures,
I’m off to the District Line.

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