Bonfire Night Magic

Bonfire Night Magic

The night was alive with a crack and a cheer,

Flames climbed high as the crowd drew near,

Children with rosy cheeks ran wild,

Eyes lit bright, every soul beguiled.

Smoke curled softly against the sky,

Where sparks met stars and embers flew high,

Laughter rolled across the field,

As winter’s chill began to yield.

Jacket potatoes steamed in foil,

Butter melting through their soil,

Hands cupped close to catch the heat,

A smoky scent, so rich, so sweet.

Toffee apples gleamed like glass,

A sticky joy no child would pass,

Little fingers clung with pride,

As fireworks burst and colours cried.

Red and gold, a thunderous song,

Moments that lingered all night long,

Each flash a bloom, each sound a roar,

Reflected in eyes that begged for more.

Parents smiled beneath the glow,

Their breath like clouds in the fire’s slow flow,

Stories shared of nights long gone,

Old traditions carrying on.

Boots pressed deep in the muddy ground,

Music played, that festive sound,

The warmth, the glow, the night so right,

A perfect spark in the heart of night.

When the fire burned low, and the crowd grew thin,

Ashes whispered where laughter had been,

Children slept in the car ride home,

Dreaming of light and the sky’s wild dome.