A mellifluous voice briskly announces her arrival,
Stirring a sudden activity on the crowded busy aisle.
Excited, all gleaming eyes stare at her beamingly,
Blowing a long whistle, she glides down majestically.

She stops with a clang and loud screeching noise,
Purging pent up energy; she looks great in her poise.
Though dark in complexion and rustic in appearance,
I love her; she is an epitome of strength and endurance.

Exhausted, in her journey, she settles down to recuperate,
Shovels of coal fed generously into the hearth, to satiate
Her hunger; belches coils of smoke, in her effort to digest,
From the dangling hose, she quenches her perennial thirst.

The shimmering embers generate in her a new vigor,
Now she is fit for the travails of the journey, greater.
The green flag flutters; meekly with effort she heaves,
Hissing a deep breath, blowing a whistle, she leaves.

Crawling and groaning under heavy burden,
Like an old man drawing a cart over-laden,
Slowly and steadily she accelerates her pace,
Generating a rhythm that sets the beat, in her race.

And she disappears into the enveloping darkness, afar,
I can see, the trails of white whiffs dissipating in the air,
And hear the reverberating whistle, diminishing gradually.
Reminiscence of her awakens the dormant child in me, readily.