Diana Neptune Aeolus Pluto

The moonlight danced upon the dappled dales,
And shattered as it struck the frothy hills.
And though it gave the sky its navy hue,
It could not penetrate the dark below;
No verdant scape, instead, a shimmering,
A play of lightning upon mottled ink.

As each crest approached, spurred on by the blast,
I reacted to the pitch and yaw.
Instinctively, I rolled and flexed and braced,
Still acrobat, mindless upon the till,
I felt and heard and saw the mighty air.
My game: to catch it in my canvas grasp.

At peak! At trough! At roar! At lull! O Sea!
O how spritely does thy rolling action
Soothe one as softly as the Sirens' call?
With the celerity of lover spurned,
Thy metronomic face morphs dissonance,
Thy sweet and supple lips 'come terror maw.

As men since dawn of time, all grace then fled,
In quest of life, I grappled, jerked and heaved,
I struggled all my force unto its brink,
All to weather the maelstrom symphony.
Better to withstand cacophonous tune
Than succumb and be embraced in silence.