No room at the inn
For fair weather friend
It is rarely so fair
So close to Antarctic
Even in Bermuda 
Smooth sailing unlikely
When a meteor
Millions of years ago
Can still mess with
Direction finding
Compass swirling
While land locked ones
Hang around in bars
Drinking Sunrises
By the glass
Why is the needle
Always pointing South
Where the shadows are cast
By the winter sun?
To those in motherland
We are indeed upside down