This poem was posted on underground weather! Thought some would like to read this. The First Noel, the Mets did say
Was to certain poor Hatians in the rain as they lay
In fields where they lay keeping their windows boarded
On a warm autums's night that was so wet.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Low Pressure!
They looked up and saw an eye
Spinning to the West beyond them far
And to the earth it gave great surf heights
And so it continued both day and night.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Carribean Disturbance!
And by the wind velocity of that same storm
Three wishcasters came from county close by
To seek for a shelter was their intent
And to follow the tropical system wherever it went.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Low Wind Shear!
This storm drew nigh to the north, northwest
O'er Bahama it took its rest
And there it did both Pause and rain
Right o'er the place where weather reporters lay.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Tropical Moisture!
Then entered in those wishcaster three
Full reverently upon their wind gauges
And offered there in His presence
Their models and analysis and instruments.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of November Cyclones!
Then let us all with one accord
Sing praises to our the NHC Lord
That hath made storm and earth of nought
And with its fury mankind has bought.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Halloween Hurricanes. |