A hurricane named Beryl, a storm fierce and cruel,
Reshapes the land's hide, a merciless tool.
A thousand flights grounded, the tempest's wrath unfurled,
Bearing havoc from Caribbean to the New World.

The Sterling lies still, a sea 'neath calm skies,
No tempest nor fury in politics lies.
Mark well Starmer's entry, victory unfurls,
Politics' maelstrom around him whirls.

Oil's wealth declines, as ceasefire talks begin,
Gaza's plight and storm Beryl cause chagrin.
Traders watch and worry, fate yet undetermined,
While the flame of conflict is yet unextinguished, still unburned.

by Æthelred the Skald

a centaur