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 ramblings and things

Bonfire Night

5th November 1605, The Gunpowder Plot, s failed attempt to blow up the Houses of Parliament and kill King James l.  It is still celebrated every year by bonfire parties and fireworks all over the country.

I turn my music louder
In the hope that I won't hear
And I try to prepare myself
As that time draws near.
The kids are in the garden
For their own firework display
Too young yet to ask
Why daddy's hidden away.

I'm sure as years pass
Their explosions are stronger
And these days displays
Seem to last a lot longer.

Their sharp bangs and cracks
Shift me back to different places
Roll across my reluctant mind
Long gone past faces.
The mates of my brick
The hours of patrol
Like a slowmo film
Memories roll and roll

Field dressing applied
By my best friend
As in a daze of pain
My squaddie life ends.

So it goes on
Year after year after year
I feel the tension rise as
That night draws near.
When the kids come back in
I'll smell the powder on their clothes
And the panic will start
As it  creeps up my nose.

The last time in the  garden
I dived to the ground
As one particularly sharp crack
Sounded like an incoming round

The music is so loud
It's hammering at my brain
But it wipes out the bangs
And eases some of my pain.
Maybe by next year
My anxieties may have gone
Maybe, just  maybe
I'll have managed to move on.

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