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)
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