LYONESSQUE

A massive tidal wave devastated Portsmouth.
From an attic window the torrent we watched
in sheer terror as it swamped street after street,
destroying all in it's path.

We cringed as the city was plunged into darkness,
bright lights extinguished in their watery grave,
and wondered would ever again we see
the high street, pier, or Spinnaker Tower.

There were no sirens, no emergency services,
no helicopters airborne - the last hope of salvation.
Neither were there screams of drowning victims,
just an eerie silence as Poseidon surfed in.

His trident held aloft in the dark sky in wrath,
He took His revenge in the sea's fury:
sank all the trawlers that had ravaged His kingdom,
then smashed Nelson's Victory to smithereens.