SWIRLING CHASM PLEASURE DOME

Swirling chasm pleasure dome,
Down to a sunless changing sea,
Parapet and towers forming force now in foam.

Finger squall like a thresher flail,
Flung in sparkling mazy motion,
Rain now plummeted with the force of hail.

Foamy slippers of cold imprinted,
Coral buckles almost formed,
Faces hasped starry skies as cloudburst continually dented.

Flotsam a hangmans noose,
Wading the seas of time, forever in a foamy train,
Like a fragrance that lingers, a fragile recluse.

Warlocks and witches in a lightshow dance,
Creating almost conceptual art,
With each bowl of an incandescent lance.

Clouds rolled fixed united,
Grumbling feathery lips opened, answered,
As Nature had intended.

Fish everywhere broke the watery mass,
The travelling tempest went with them,
Shimmering as if studded by lots of strass.

Walls now destructive rolled towards land,
Fantastic terrors never seen before,
Darkness whispered word followed the vortex hand.

Battering the coast trees smeared with toil,
Ripped, broken as the waves gather to greatness once more,
The sky quivered like shook foil.

Then silence no more cataracts thunder,
No more fiery tongue like arrows,
Sculptor now dormant in an ever changing beaker.