The flames have come
Held aloft with bitter fingers
They march tradition's beating drum.
Colours together in common cause
With the smell of paraffin rags burning.
Remember! Remember!
The smoke hoarse call
Rings from boarded streets
As black boots tread the hills once more.
In the dark they walk those paths
The light comes first and then the noise
The cordite crack and then the horn.
Beware! Beware!
Bonfire has come.
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