Deb: ODE TO A SPARKLER
And we celebrate this in a most special way.
We come to pay homage to our long dead queen
And celebrate her life, for it’s in our genes.
We emerge from our winter homes primed for the sun
And run to buy fireworks, the fun has begun.
We stand on our streets; we stand neighbour to neighbour
And shout oooh and ahhh at the fruits of our labour.
But there is one little gem on this traditional night
That stays in my heart with its light burning bright,
The simple wee sparkler with its festive display
Like a tiny bright fairy lighting my way.
It can take me way back to my days as a child
When the summer was starting, and the weather turned mild.
In its light I see my parents wrapped in their youth
In its buzzing I hear laughter, memories, truth,
Truth in traditions that make the world sweet
All over the planet and on our tiny street.
Dear Deb, how I love your beautiful ode
To sparklers and neigbours and a traditional mode.
I cherish these things very much as you do,
Memories of warm nights, cold beer, and fireworks too.
But homage to queens of British descent
Don’t do much except maybe make me resent
That I’ve never had blood of this Anglophile line.
So I may well be a disrespectful bovine
When I say, “Queen Victoria, well, fiddle-dee-dee,
I don’t give a fig that they named a holiday for thee,
But I’ll party, relax, and savour the break
And light sparklers and hug neighbours for your glorious sake.”
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Happy Victoria Day … or Monday, whichever you prefer!