North-east Is Henceforth Banished
A globe for tea, crammed high with brine,
Epitome of high design
Whenas the periwinkle gleams
It has such very simple dreams
Yet none of its, I trow, are mine
The pungent whiff of iodine
(Oh, let us sniff a long red line!)
Whenas the Oberführer yells
"It has such very complex smells"
Then settles by the grizzled pine
We hear the injured fakir whine
To realize the Circle line
Whenas the Fat Controller creeps
Fathoms not the greater deeps
That polarise the nether Rhine
| Contributors: | Apsley, Beefy, Roland, Grayman, F, Padfoot. |
| Poem finished: | 9th July 2004 by Apsley. |