Monday, 1 May 2017

Down the wire to the fire

The ringing was quite shrill,
And it wasn’t for a fire drill,
So we gathered one until,
The numbers inside got to nil.
Maybe the wardens had skill,
It was not on the bill,
Getting out was uphill,
Enough for flames to make a kill.
Hobbling as I will,
Looking out on the window sill,
I could not fathom still,
We were to fill.
To act is to instil,
Every form of goodwill,
No one should need a gill,
If a fire grows to thrill.
Stepping beyond the grill,
The muster point far in Brazil,
We came to a standstill,
With nothing to fulfil.
Later on the rumour mill,
As the scheme went downhill,
After catching a little chill,
We reentered the ville.


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