She looked tranquil from afar
But those appearances were deceiving
Up close she was a storm
In her bosom
A tempest
At times I was having to lean
Into her with all my mental weight
Wit and acuity
Just to keep from being blown off anchor
At others she was like so much
Beach sand mixed with drizzle
Flown like flying stinging spittle
Blown along hard
With the landfall of an incoming Hurricane
Not enough to soak or plaster me
But enough to sting so that it hurt
And with lots more still to dump
It didn’t take long for me
To realise I needed a lighthouse
A beacon to guide me to safety
Others were less fortunate
Blinded by confidence in their ability
Caught off guard by her mock timidity
And surprised by the lack of forewarning
They ignored what little notice was given
And wrecked and ran themselves aground
That night
Suffering great loss
Myself and a lone pig
Were the only two who
Made it out alive
Jumping overboard with a floating casket of rum
Now some days later
I sit by the dying embers of a fire
Only me and the rum remaining
Ah but at least the weather is better.