A Sahara/strawberry sky
Hangs over London Town
Shrouded in a sultry fog
As from my tower I peer out

The view across the city
Takes on a Blade Runneresque hue
As fiction threatens to come to life
With Ophelia passing through

The mood reactively ominous
The calm before the storm
Nobody wishes anyone
To come to any harm

The street lights all aglow
Though it’s only 4pm
Eerily silent and unseasonably warm
Are we facing Armageddon?

Red layers of ancient sand
Sail in on the balmy wind
From the deserts of Africa
Of biblical times do they remind

Thus this hurricane adopts a fleece
So innocuous does she seem
As did her namesake in death
When floating down the stream

But like the flowers she loved so
This beauty we cannot trust
For it has the power to maim and kill
When its eye is at last upon us