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The storm was predicted,
Jet black was the sky,
But I needed to cross,
I remember not why.
The ship sailed for Dublin,
I knew I must try
To bolster my nerves
My fear to defy.
A storm was predicted,
Air pressure awry.
Not for the first time
I feared I would die.
But that storm was a beast
And I let out a cry,
‘Please Lord do listen,
Oh please let me die!’
But we made it across
That dread Irish Sea,
But I’ve never yet mastered
My fears. Let them be!
Roland's Ragbag 