So at the Cliffs of Moher I started to hike along the dangerous path, taking it slow, but when I was hit one way then the opposite by strong gusts of wind, I decided better of it, and went back, writing a limerick of what could have happened:

There once was a man from Seattle,
Against the winds of Moher he did battle,
From a sudden strong gust
Over the edge was he thrust,
On the rocks below his bones did shatter.