The Great Library Burn Poem by Jay Alexander

The first inkling were the sirens,
Daisy awoke, moved towards
An open window, and on that
Summer night was greeted
By tongues of fire twenty metres
High.

She left the house,
Shawl over nightdress,
Ran down an alley,
Towards a group of people,
It seemed the whole town was there.
She recognised old Mr.Jones
Who's knees and stick trembled,
The Maddens with their five kids,
City types, with IPads and smartphones
Pointed high, filming all angles;
Girls pouting, taking selfies.

Eventually, young and old,
All eyes turned towards the
Neo-classic building,
Its majestic porch and columns,
Surrounded by an aeiry light,
Whilst plumes of black smoke, ash,
Streamed out of door and windows.

How sad thought Daisy:
There, as a child, I'd read
Babar and Winnie the Pooh,
Met my first love,
Studied in the ornate Reference Room,
All this now ground to dust.

The flames dominated, the air a
Stench of burnt books,
The people, with bowed head,
Slowly turned and left.
Back down the alley,
Daisy stepped on something hard,
It was a book.

She picked it up, and on
The cover, in bold print, read:
" The Great Library ".
" How strange, " she said, 'to
Find this here, undamaged too.
There is no author, the writing in
Strange tongues.
Tomorrow I'll Google it."

It was cold now,
Daisy was almost home.
Holding the book
Firmly against her breast -
She felt warm inside.