Wait Until Later When It’s Good and Dark

Wait Until Later  (Part one)

A fireman’s job takes heart and soul,

They have to be ready to aid young and old,

 Dangerous situations are part of the work,

But never do firemen a mission shirk,

Being on roofs with flames all around,

In buildings with live electrical wires down,

Wondering if the walls could cave in,

There is bonding with other firemen,

A brotherhood of those who have the knack,

Respecting those who watch their back,

Yet not all the time dousing fires is spent,

Part of the time is used to prevent,

Warning others of dangers, always alert,

Sometimes when they see children badly hurt,

They’re quick and efficient, silently cold,

But layered underneath are hearts of gold,

Resuscitation and first aid are applied,

Behind closed doors, sometimes they’ve cried,

More than keeping everything polished and clean,

Stations are inspected and by the public seen,

Firemen write, play games, cook, or read a book,

Their fire clothing hangs waiting on a hook,

To sleep soundly would be a mistake,

So they sleep lightly for lives are at stake,

Wait Until Later (Part Two) Explosions

I had a small share of life and death,

It broke my heart to see a last breath,

Yet there were times not fire related,

When firemen were just people as stated,

One evening was different as I started my shift,

It was busy but uneventful, if you get my drift,

Tom was my partner, he was in charge,

He was considered serious, by firemen at large,

Two small kitchen fires, a car fire on the street,

A resuscitation call, then quiet, the evening complete,

Tom finished his bookwork and had gone to bed,

I climbed into my bunk and to relax I read,

Later I was sleeping deeply, that’s not an excuse,

When the world suddenly exploded, all hell broke loose,

Bang! Boom! And a series of loud bangs,

I thought for a moment several fire alarms rang,

We leaped up quickly from our beds,

I slipped on my trousers, I was seeing red,

We raced to the door for someone to snare,

But to our surprise no one was there,

We investigated quickly to see why we awoke,

Firecrackers were scattered, some still with smoke,

Yet there was no other evidence we could find,

But we couldn’t sleep or get peace of mind,

Tom was sure the culprits lived across the street,

A woman and her friend I’d a chance to meet,

Pranks, good and bad, they were prone to commit,

But they never got caught, and would never admit,

Later that week Tom sat pensively, a lot on his mind,

“I wish there was a way, a prank I could find,

To even the score and give me peace of mind,”

I thought for a moment, “I have some plans,

I just need fishing line and some empty cans.”

Wait Until Dark (Part Three) The Prank

When I was off duty I gathered my supply,

Patiently prepared, for there would just be one try,

I drilled holes in the cans and tied them with line,

“Perfect,” I thought, “This will work fine,”

A few days later when the women were leaving,

Tom plied me with questions about the plan I was weaving,

“It’s a simple plan, it’ll work, just wait and see,

First on my list is to climb their tree,”

I crossed the street and climbed with glee,

Draped the cans over branches so they couldn’t see,

Then I returned carrying the fishing line,

Attached it high in a nearby tree, with a clever design,

Tom still watched, his eyes full of question marks,

I only said, “Wait until later, when it’s good and dark,”

A few hours later, “It’s time,” I quietly said,

“I think the women are snug in their beds,”

Hidden behind shrubbery I gave the line a yank,

The cans across the street danced, clink, clank!

A light went on, a head peered out,

They heard the noise, there was no doubt,

They went inside, I yanked once more,

Clinkedy clank, clank, clank! There was a roar,

Lights went on, the couple raced out,

Carrying weapons of destruction with lots of clout,

To Tom’s delight and to their chagrin,

They found no intruders or pranksters again,

They stepped into the street, unaware of my scheme,

The cans rattled behind them, prompting both to scream,

Tom howled with laughter, quiet no more,

They rushed at him, they were very sore,

Angrily they demanded what he was doing wrong,

“It’s getting even time, I’ve waited so long,”

They still weren’t happy, they both wore frowns,

It was a few days before they cooled down,

A truce was declared, everyone agreed to comply,

Although occasionally we received a hot apple pie,

And we brought gifts from file and rank,

When word got out about “the prank”,

Over the next few years the story increased,

Until the laughter subsided and all memories ceased.