All Fired Up For Bonfire Night

Yippee, I can’t wait for tonight,

In dirty wasteland there are bonfires to light,

You may not know but I am a lover of fire,

There’s something unearthly about burning pyre,

The reds and oranges and yellow flames,

Dancing and darting and playing fiery games,

It’s just a pity there are so many stacks ablaze,

In every available empty space,

One next to another, spaced apart but not for long,

Making it hard to distinguish to which one you belong,

Plastics and toxics thrown in seem to be a must,

Melted and whooshed up into a poisonous gust,

To add to global warming by hiding the sun,

We cough and splutter away, it’s all part of the fun,

We stuff potato and ash into our parted lips,

And cups of drink and dirt, washing it down in sips,  

We sing songs and feel a part of who knows what,

While innocent sparks fly about burning and hot,

And the burns we accept like heros, not to be whinged,

Or rearranged hair which the fire has singed,

The best thing is that the smell stays forever,

Impossible to remove whatever your endeavor,

After scrubbing and washing you cannot forget,

The smoky perfume is imprinted, is kept,

And then when it does eventually disappear, it does go,

We don’t despair, because we always know,

That we can do it again we just have to wait,

For next year’s Lag B’Omer it’s on the same date.

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