Augering Ill

This lady is not for trifling; there,
she's at it again, the unabashed
eternal, infernal tease, as though
she's an impudent imp and not
merely the most indisputably
powerful force in existence. A
chimera of kindly indulgence and
dark malevolence, she casts her
moods upon the winds as
instantly changeable as the
chameleon she designed
inspired by her own ineffably vast
persona. In permutations of
raging might and indifferent
beneficence she rules, a mighty,
universal force, majestic and
unopposed. Close up and personal
we are tantalized by sun streaming
through early morning windows,
then a wicked wind tears the
pod of sailboats from the sky,
entrenching an armada of black,
glowering galleons all cannons on
deck outfitted for war, and we realize
she's gone into one of her mood-polarized
regal tantrums. Intimately beneficent
or remotely baneful, no region of the
great vastness of the Universe immune.