Wednesday, 8 April 2015

Day 8: Fireworks

Fireworks tonight - now they just have to be put into verse!

I have always tried to describe fireworks in word and failed. Theirs is the language of colour. But poets have to try...! And it's weird - I had the first line of this poem in my head all day awaiting the show tonight and just now I've made the discovery that a lot of the main fireworks are actually described as flower names. Never knew it! Well - just wow. SYNCHRONICITY :)

Fireworks, April 8th

Can spring bloom in sky?
Yes. Fireworks
on an April night,

a fanfare of blossoms: 
gold, green, magenta, 
amber, scarlet, violet, 
fuchsia, emerald, sapphire. 
Night bejeweled
with bouquets
of neon explosions.

Roots and shoots 
of chrysanthemums 
pouring petals 
on rooftops.
bursting peonies like hearts 
inflated to a crescendo 
of expression, sputtering
spontaneity; (or how love
makes us bigger, fuller, splendid.) 
 A barrage of bees,
spinning Catherine wheels,
willows weeping
back to earth. 
Seeds of stars,
airborne wishes.

Garden of ephemeral spectacle,
season birthed in sparks.    
Crackle, pop, whizz and whimper,
tremendous thunder 
of superlative wonder. 
All heads tilted skywards.
Exclamatory delight.


  1. Love love love this, my favourite one of yours so far. So many beautiful moments, but my favourite is that lovely sentiment in the middle "(or how love / makes us bigger, fuller, splendid.) ", which the rest of the poem hangs around so beautifully, like a silk dress on a mannequin's curves. Also the first stanza is stunning in its simplicity, and I HEART 'seeds of stars' - when I see fireworks now, I will always , always think of that. A gem of a line.

  2. Thank you Cheryl! I don't see this one as my best, as I struggled a lot with it, so it's good to know that. (It's always interesting: my favourite poems of my own are almost always not other peoples and vice-versa. Do you find that with your poems??) It's bloody hard to describe fireworks! - glad you enjoyed it.