Ode To November 5th

A little fun for Guy Fawke’s night. (For those of my readers in other countries, who may not know, the British have a tradition to burn stuff and let off fireworks every November 5th in memory of a bloke called Guy Fawkes who, in 1605, attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament and assassinate King James using gunpowder. The plot was foiled however at the eleventh hour.)

This poem I wrote two years ago in my head on the walk home from a firework display on bonfire night. 

The idea with this poem was that every other line had a word which rhymed with sky as that is where most of the action takes place on November 5th. This version has a couple of amendments and an added verse.  Enjoy 🙂 

Ode To November 5th

Gunpowder smoke lingers

In the night air so dry

Hot dog and baked potato odours

Mix with warm apple pie.

Sprinkles of glittering fireworks

Shoot across the arid sky

‘Oohs’ and ‘aahs’ echo

As the crowds collectively sigh.


Flames flicker on the bonfire,

Smouldering ashes rise up high,

They dance off on the November breeze

Cooling as they fly.


The burning effigy of Fawkes centre stage

Reminds us of a Guy,

Who once tried to blow up Parliament

And make the gentry fry.

A long born out tradition

To seemingly never die,

Another 5th of November gone,

’til next year: Aurevoir, farewell, goodbye.






Filed under General Rambliings, Writing

6 responses to “Ode To November 5th

  1. Lovely. If I ever visit your side of the pond, I’d love to come in November to play spectator.

  2. Dee Lancaster

    When the teachers were on strike, my son thought we should all wear Guy Fawkes masks as a political statement. Not that he or I endorse blowing stuff up, but we like the idea of standing up to crappy government.

  3. Delightfully done. And thanks for a happy memory 🙂

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