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Alas I remember them well.
Down at the corner shop.
An assortment of fireworks on display they would sell.
 
Leaving school in early June.
It was past all the Milk Bars of Eastwood I would walk.
The main talk was the fire crackers to be bought.
 
To wet the appetite a box of Throw downs,
Just the trick to be lobbed or thrown on the concrete pavement amongst people’s feet.
 
There were Tom thumbs,
Great down the daks, blowing up on your brothers bum!
 
Remember the Penny bungers so named by the currency.
For a real thrill & for the proper dill, a Two Penny bunger,
It wasn’t long before they were withdrawn.
 
Replaced by the Thunder!
This hand held device once lit, you were chancing your hand.
Like a roll of the dice!
When the letter box exploded!
Scaring one & all even the Mice.
 
There was the Tuppence Halfpenny’s all strung together,
The destroyer of many a cracker night, as they were let off.
The crackers would jump & writhe about.
This would give the cat a fright!
 
You could feel the excitement building to what we call Bonn fire night.
The mid of June when any buffoon.
Stacked the timber & found something to sacrifice, 
A car tyre or two, we stared into the fire as they melted like glue.
 
The best thing a Cracker Nite was the delight as father brought home a box of fire works to light.
There were Sky rockets to delight, Jumping Jacks to liven up the neighbors.
 
 The Splendor of roman candles & assorted cones.
Long tubes that shot baubles of light up into the night sky in sprays of light.
 With ooohs & aaahs this went on all night.
 
Then out would come the Catherine wheels nailed to the fence.
The trick was to light it & run. 
It would spin & hiss showering one & all.
Dads gone & left the cracker box to close. 
Look out! 
Up in smoke the box was blasted, everyone running in all directions.
I think dad had too much beer.
That night ended early, we would watch & scowl our neighbors had their bungers & rockets.  
Oh! remember the rockets they had a plastic man,
To parachute down amongst the smoke.
 
Smoke!
The neighborhood dogs were howling,
Whole place was smoky & dim; it was time to go in.
Another cracker night over.
 
We would get up next morning to survey the scene,
Looking for fizzers & Sparklers amongst the wet grass. 
We would horde them away in a shoe box, never to found.
This was the mission to go underground.
We had our stash!
 
We would look forward to next year,
Collecting soft drink bottles,
Then exchange them at the Milk Bar for cash!
 
Colin  -  Aug 2006





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