One misty moisty morning, the sky woke up as grey
And the people living locally cursed the dark damp day
The mountains were clothed in wispy shrouds,
Day-star stayed hidden behind the menacing clouds
The ocean thrashed and hissed at the shore
But the boats out deeper were losing the war
Salt-water rushed to fill each small hole
The Atlantic claimed each celestial soul
When the storm might have passed...
though the day was still grim,
The keeners mourned over a single woven jumper...
though no one was within.