tagNon-Erotic PoetryThe Second Great Fire of London

The Second Great Fire of London


They came a hundred and thirty strong
to thieve our heritage in a night,
scattering bright sparkling canisters
to fall in the eerie gentleness
of rustling autumn leaves,
A maelstrom to crumble stone,
melt glass and twist Wren's churches,
many destroyed in awful savagery.
Then came the bombs.
Fires leapt from roof to roof
illuminating fire workers wading
waist deep in mud,
struggling to reach fireboats
upon the Thames.
Our women fought beside the men
ferrying fuel through the flames,
as The City belched black smoke.
History destroyed.

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