As invisible fingers tear through her hair, In her hand, a jewel shimmers and twinkles, And fresh herbs which she slowly sprinkles, Her ruby, red, rose lips chant a magical rhyme, Conjouring up a darkening sky as the bells begin to chime, Her soft, cotton robes turn to fire, The waves crashing against the cliffs, they will never tire, She spots the Galleons becomming visible in the yonder, With chests bursting with treasure to make greed grow fonder, With a clap of her hands and an almighty thunderous crash, A foaming wave devourers the Galleons as quick as a flash, A wicked smile is then painted on those delicate ruby, red, rose lips, And hell is dancing in the eyes that watch the debris of the eaten ships.
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