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