There was a relief in feeling the storm’s approach.

She ran out the door and threw the broach

Into the whirling sea,

Then she came and stood by me.

We watched the storm together,

Thankful for the weather,

Because with the storm’s approach,

We rid ourselves of that awful cursed broach.

AN: please give me feedback, and sorry if this is not really a poem or something. I’m still learning. And I’m talking about a brooch, but broach is historically accurate I think, look it up. Thanks!