Rowley

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