Fire Dance

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One small spark, a flicker, a sharp little pop,
Wisps of smoke dance up through the top,
As flames start their wild uncontrollable dance,
Capturing victims in a dangerous trance.

Burning all that enters it’s wild ravenous path,
Leaving behind a dead black ash aftermath,
Yet on it continues gaining great size and speed,
destroying all, be it from fauna or seed.

Alive or deceased, to it doesn’t matter,
It’s only phased by heavy rains pitter patter,
Or a firefighter in a big red, water carrying truck,
Whom hopes to extinguish it with a touch of luck.

Alas on it continues, dancing still, 
Curling up sky high trees, and on up a hill,
On it goes, till it runs out of flame and flare,
then it is the one dead from no fuel and air.

Once majestic, now all blacked out,
The relived give a celebratory shout,
Cleaning up, rebuilding, burying the dead,
’Tis now to be done, though a task to dread.

Landscapes splendour is slowly regained,
Gradually becoming less fire ash stained,
Though somewhere in everyones mind,

Worry of when a fire may dance in kind.

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