Bonfire, you’re a merry fellow
With your flames of red and yellow,
And your cheery cracks and pops-
You gobble up the old bean-props,
The pea-sticks, withered plants, and all
The leaves blown down beside the wall.
Your never-ending spires of smoke
(The colour of a pixy’s cloak)
Go mounting to the starry sky,
And when the wind comes bustling by
Oh, what a merry game you play,
And how you pop and roar away!
Your heart is red, your smoke is thick,
On, pile on leaves and branches quick!
Let’s dance around and shout and sing,
Oh, Bonfire, you’re a LOVELY thing!
From the Enid Blyton Poetry book, 1934.
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Carefully Guy carried the taper
rapidly ignited the fire.
Guy stood, reigniting the taper.
and then he stood well back