The Wild Winds - Not the Williwaw

As the screaming Sirocco swept the sands, Suffocating the Shiekh's Sixth Sick Sheep, It's sister, Simoon, soon sought to strike The sweat-suffering Sultan's sweet sleep. Then came the Khamsin, and Calima, too, - Dust-devils, Diabolos, Lavaan, Loo! Angered, Aeolos, King of the Air, Council called up with him in chair Boreas, Euros, Fair Favonius, Zesty Zephyr, alll were there With solemn, sullen, scowl he said: I'll rout these rascals, send you instead. The howling hot-heads harassed no more As the Aeolian Airs soothed the Shiekh's sandy sore! (At his point I petulantly wind up my windy verbiage - As continuing ceaselessly and adamantly with unending alliteration would surely end in gibberish and garbage)