Poseidon the Storm Chaser
Storms and rain race thy heart
Chasing typhoons day to day
Quickly Poseidon must depart
Whirling winds are his prey
Gales slowly whirling around
Whistling rushing past his ear
A grin forming due to the sound
The storm approaching very near
In the distance a whirling zephyr
Such a storm, Such a feat
One could not believe the pressure
With that his mission complete
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: