Bonfire night: better than Halloween by far, and one of my favourite things about autumn (along with hot chocolate, chunky knits and my birthday).

Many of my happy childhood memories revolve around the gigantic bonfire at the end of our garden, paired with homemade soup-in-a-mug, rogue Catherine wheels, and short-lived sparklers.

I wanted to write a little love poem to this time of year. It’s not witty, or clever – to be honest, it’s pretty basic – but it’s full of my love for the flames and sparks.

(The simple AABB rhyme scheme gives it a childish sound that harks emphasises the link with my childhood too).

I hope you like it!

Bonfire, Bonfire

Bonfire, Bonfire, burning bright,
Flaming deep into the night,
Eating up the twigs and wood,
Scorching us from where we’re stood.

Bonfire, Bonfire, blazing high,
Spitting cinders at the sky,
Hypnotising as you flicker,
Begging us to feed you quicker.

Bonfire, Bonfire, deepest yellow,
Sparking as the fireworks bellow,
Toasting hands and warming toes,
And slowing as the evening goes.

Bonfire, Bonfire, smoulders still,
Doused and snuffed against your will,
Turned to ash, all but an ember,
A memory ‘til next November.

Read more of my poetry:

• Honest Haiku: Eight
• Low Light
• Ours
• The Great Divide
• The Instapoet