Conversation Between the Compost Heap and the Bonfire
Said the compost heap to the bonfire,
“I’m getting the hots for you.
My inside’s a mulch of emotion
And I’ve jilted the barbecue.”
Barked the bonfire to the compost heap,
“You’re forever talking muck.
The blokes who’ve forked you over would fill
A Chelsea flower show truck.”
The compost cooed, “Last Guy Fawkes,
As the whizz-bangs hurtled around,
You said you were burning for me,
That I suited you down to the ground.”
“My memory’s a fading ember,”
Said the bonfire, “you may be right,
But you’ll have to warm to some other old flame,
For I’m going out tonight.”
Peter Wyton has performed his poetry at Festivals, Arts Centers and a wide variety of locations all over the United Kingdom. His work has appeared in the national press and on B.B.C. Radio. He has won more than 25 first prizes in written competition and a similar number of performance poetry slams. He makes presentations to a variety of organizations under the title of “Wyton Wisdom” (pronounced Wit-on, not Y-ton!).