From Malin Head to Mizen Head
to Carnsore Point to the Irish sea:
gusting at knots.
Below the Island south to England,
St. Jude passes,
full of gust,
hopeless, and patron
of depression.
Amber warning-be prepared,
Yellow warning-be aware,
gusting and bending
the trees,
swirling seas and channel
crossing cancelled,
St. George's Sea gives way,
ferries grounded.
With care, the drivers
of cars, the driver of trains
stays stationed.
A day off, a day of rest,
maybe gusts of one hundred
best.
A high wind- turbine is blown down,
at Higher Rixdale farm in Devon.

In my garden in Dublin South,
I mow the lawn and use the secateurs
and admire the flush of climbers,
the Virginia creeper has shed its red
and the mauve rose stands tall,
towards the church tower,
three days to All Souls.
And after the storm,
all is calm all is bright.

Bernard Kennedy

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/st-judes-storm-2013/