Hurricane Poem by David Welch

Storm-tossed tempest, foaming waves,
fluid furor, drowns the brave,
surge waters from the hurricane
breaks breakwaters men have paved.
Swirling maelstrom, fast winds rage,
through the trees their howls rave,
roofs fly off seaside enclaves,
fools who stayed will know the grave,
comes to claim both good and knave...
Concrete and steel might be saved,
even then it's a close shave,
oceans never do behave,
Poseidon laughs from his sea-cave.