The Great Fire of London - (Final) Part Four

People left (as sane folk would),
Taking with them what they could.
As via the Thames escapes were made,
The boatmen did a roaring trade.
Looters prowled, to try to find
Things of value, left behind.

Samuel Pepys informed the king,
And then recorded everything:
What people did, all matters fiery
Were noted down in that man's diary.

Four days on, the wind had dropped.
The fire-breaks worked; the flames were stopped.
A population, devastated,
Returned to find their homes cremated.

It's claimed that half a dozen died:
Just six, who were identified.
Not everyone was fit to run:
What could the sick and weak have done?
It's likely unnamed dozens must
Have been reduced to ash and dust,
In time to form a human silt
On which the modern London's built.

Samuel Pepys

                                 

 

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.

The Great Fire of London - Part Three

... not far from Pudding Lane were docks,
And warehouses, with brimming stocks.
As winter neared, these all would hold
Supplies to beat the coming cold.

Textiles, coal, imported brandy
(For warmth in different ways all handy),
Tobacco, wood, molasses, paper,
Ignited by a giant taper.

To fight infernos, not that much:
No proper fire brigade as such.
Men wuth pumps and rigid hoses
Can't meet the challenge this fire poses.
And though they surely did their best,
The flames moved onwards, north and west...

The Monument, Pudding Lane, London EC3

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.

The Great Fire of London - Part Two

.Because, as all of London slept,
A spark from 'neath his oven lept.
(The maid, they say, must take the blame
For causing that initial flame).

His premises were soon alight,
And tongues of brightness licked the night.
There'd been no rain all summer long,
Winds from the east raged fresh and strong.

As Tom and all his household fled,
The fire to nearby houses spread.
The City's dry and cobbled maze
Was very quickly all ablaze.

Though was it Tom's fault? Some think not.
They say it was a foreign plot,
Not started by a single flare
But several other fires elsewhere...

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.

WI in fancy dress gaffe

Just seen the news item on this:

Despite the cheeky calendar,
The Women's Institute
Isn't noted for frivolity
But, rather, bottled fruit.

They'd booked a noted speaker,
On "Piracy" the talk.
They expected tales of Bluebeard...
Of planks that men must walk...

Of robbing Spanish treasure ships...
Of fights with sword and gun,
Then someone thought of dressing up:
It sounded like good fun.

With parrots on their shoulders,
With patches on their eyes
And, wearing skull and crossbones hats,
They turned up in disguise.

But it isn't Captain Hook and co
On which their guest now speaks:
He'd been captured by Somalians
And held for several weeks.

He talks of his experience,
His worries and his fear,
And the ladies know the costumes
Hadn't been a good idea.

They apologized profusely
For their somewhat tactless blunder.
Will their research in the future
Be improved, one may well wonder?

(The all-time very favourite joke
Of younger daughter Star,
Is "Why are pirates, pirates?
The response, "Because they "Arrrgh"!")

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.

The Great Fire of London - Part One (of 4)

Here are facts we ought to learn:
What fires must have, so they can burn.
They use the oxygen in air.
Without it, they just couldn't flare.

Fuel is also what they need:
Things that burn, on which to feed.
Wood, coal, oil - that sort of stuff -
Will burn if it gets hot enough.

Ignition is our final "must"
To make what can be burned combust.

Way back in 1666,
London wasn't built with bricks.
Timber-framed, by mud walls shrouded,
Homes were cramped and over-crowded.

By baking, Tom his living earned,
And certain things he'd long-since learned:
At close of trade he must remember
To damp down every glowing ember,
Extinguish every red hot speck,
But someone clearly didn't check...

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.

Where are you Russia and Romania?

Southern Ireland has joined us,
And Canada too.
So folk in those countries,
A welcome to you.

Since I found those great stats
I have learned quite a lot,
And I now know from where
People visit this spot.

But how it all works
Is not easy to figure:
The numbers from Russia
Got bigger and bigger..

Then suddenly no one
From there came to view:
There's been no single visit
This past week or two.

But Romania's stats
Then began to improve.
Did a tribe with computers
Decide they would move?

As fast as they featured,
Now they too have gone,
And this week I am reading,
"Romania - none!"

Or was it one person
Who viewed many times?
Who whiled idle hours away
Reading these rhymes?

On a handful from China
Could always rely.
And from there, all the figures
Are suddenly high.

Such things are all relative
Please don't forget.
Though the audience grows,
We are not viral - yet!

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.

Cats in the garden

"Pussy cat, pussy cat,
Where have you been?"
"In other folk's gardens.
You know what I mean?"

I'm grateful to some
For the digging they do:
Where the soil's nice and soft
Is the best place to poo.

A favourite game
Always keeps me enchanted,
And that's to destroy
All the things they've just planted.

Late springtime arrives
With its own special treat.
I love baby birds:
They're delicious to eat.

People try to deter me,
But keep on forgetting
That moggies on missions
Can cope with their netting.

There are gadgets emitting
A highly-pitched squeal.
Imagine, with those,
How unwelcome I feel.

I find tiger wee sprinkled -
Purr-lease spare me that.
I know it's a con
For THERE IS NO BIG CAT.

I continue, unfazed,
On my usual route,
Then return to my owners,
Who think I am cute.


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For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.