The flames that flared
by Rowleys head,
were part of his cardigan
Aunt Pop said.
He caught it alight
whilst frying some bacon.
(Can't remember whos food
he was makin')
An extinguisher was close at hand.
A dowsing in foam
was hurriedly planned.
It clouded his glasses
through which he was seeing
the fire of the fat
that was part
of his being.
He stoically stood,
not a move was he takin'.
His eyebrows were crisp
as the burnt piece of bacon.
Sally Plumb
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Was hurriedly planned! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.