The Devil’s Daughters

The Devil’s Daughters

Cascading waters, thunder and lightening,
The Devil’s daughters, ugly and frightening.

From trough to tip, rocked to and fro,
is cast the ship, both high and low.

The crests that gather, frothy and white,
strike at the ship, with all of their might,

Ropes and timbers, shudder and shake,
as the Devil’s daughters, strike out to awake.

They hurry forth, and scurry aloft,
securing the rigging, untangling the cloth.

Those gallant sailors, both old and new,
struggle against nature’s, tempestuous abuse.

From storm to calm, from sweat to rest,
each of these opponents, have tried their best.

Now steadier swells, and more tranquil morns,
could it really be, but the calm before the storm.

For word has come, from distant waters,
of natures flurries, and of the Devil’s daughters.