Elizabeth Wright
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Flaming Fire

As I gaze at the flames in the fire, I thought, ‘This didn’t turn out quite right.’
Our Dad had previously said, ‘We’ll have a BBQ and party into the night.’

We raided the shed for the outfit, brushed rust off the hood and the tray,
Dived into the freezer for burgers and chops, and stacked them out of the way.

Dad donned his saucy apron, sorted out his weapons of war,
He frantically attempted to light the fire, he meant business, for sure.

He tried to ignite the charcoal and twigs, muttering, ‘This is a joke,’
He added a couple of firelighters, which encouraged a small puff of smoke.

After an hour the charcoal glowed red; just right for cooking the food,
We laid it all over the grill, where it sizzled and browned, as it should.

Dad ignored our repeated suggestions as to what he could do with his fork,
He just kept adding more coals, and re-arranging the fillets of pork.

Whilst waiting we knocked back some wine, chatted with the neighbours next door,
Sat in the sun, sang a few songs and downed a few drinks more.

The wine and the beer flowed freely, Dad forgot all about the meat,
‘Till a smell of burning alerted us - our grub had blackened in the heat.

The smoke went up our nostrils, causing all of us to cough,
And as we dabbed our streaming eyes, a joker called out, “Dinner’s off.”

The flames not only destroyed our food, they attacked the garden shed,
Made a bonfire of the felt and planks, ‘Not good,’ the firemen said.

So, as I gaze at the flames in the fire, I can only think, ‘What a sight.’
Then Dad threw down his fork, and asked, - ‘Anyone want fish and chips tonight?’

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Published in the Eastbourne Gazette - October 2013


© Elizabeth Wright