STATION POST: Happy Guy Fawkes Day everyone!!!
THE BALLAD OF NIGHT PIGEON
'Twas November the Fifth, bonfires soon to be burning,
And the wheels on the carts bearing effigies turning,
And the children ran home from their places of learning,
And they watched for the sun to set,
And when it grew dark the flames dotted the land,
All the sticks, junk and paper, piled high by skilled hands,
Some joined hands and sang, others struck up a band,
For it wasn't quite firework time yet.
And many had grand plans to see the night's end,
To sit till the sunrise, all talking with friends,
Or canoodling with lovers, some seeking to mend
Relationships needing attention,
But not only humans would see the night through;
A bird on a branch intended to, too,
Is it an owl? No, it's Night Pigeon! COO!
A master of wingèd invention.
He's evaded the hawk and avoided the cat,
He's muddled the falcon, befuddled the bat,
And disguised as a cricket, he's baffled the gnat,
And the fish, it is said, are quite puzzled,
And though mostly you'd see him working alone,
He numbers among his friends one toothless crone,
A dormouse named Walter who lives in a phone,
And a dog who is heavily muzzled.
But I digress - back to the story we go,
And all those folks eager for the firework show,
With their thick coats and hats and their glowsticks that glow,
And various delectable snacks;
They bolted down burgers and scoffed sausage rolls,
They passed around parkin, and popcorn in bowls,
While some kept to candy floss on fifteen inch poles,
And some only fiddled with flapjacks.
Meanwhile, Night Pigeon was checking his mail,
The letter he got made his feathers turn pale,
Someone planned to bust Guy Fawkes out of jail!
Night Pigeon, it seemed, had a mission;
For truly no ordinary pigeon was he,
Though he did eat breadcrumbs and slept in a tree,
He worked for the government, for just a small fee,
At MI12: Time Travel Division.
He said: 'Well I never! I must straightaway
'Bid farewell to this night and the whole present day,
'Find the reckless traveller who thinks he can play
'With the delicate fabric of history,
'Who are they?' he wondered, 'and how do they look?
'Did they research their costumes in a history book?'
And he couldn't help wondering what route they took,
For how they got back was a mystery.
Though Guy Fawkes did suffer, it can't be denied,
Broken with torture while for treason was tried,
'It happened! It can't be changed!' Night Pigeon cried,
'I must stop this time rearranger,'
For how many memories depend on this night?
This commemoration of that poor Catholic's plight?
How many conceived under fireworks' light,
Whose existences now were in danger?
So Night Pigeon stealthily flew to the ground
And creeping up slowly, not making a sound
He gobbled with pleasure a worm that he found
And stepped back in time through its hole,
Landing with precision in 1605,
The day after Guy Fawkes was taken alive,
With King James on the throne, who seemed to contrive
To make violence his mode of control.
Now Night Pigeon hastily read through his brief,
Given him by MI12's erstwhile chief,
He had to search for a notorious thief,
Who for tunnels two shovels had taken,
To the Tower of London Night Pigeon went,
Where two men with shovels, looking confident,
Dug under the walls, ignoring the vent
Right next to the hole they were making.
So up to the tunnel mouth Night Pigeon stole,
And with his pocket trowel, he filled in the hole,
And he stuffed up the air vent with mud, leaves and coal,
And alerted the guards to the issue,
They dragged the intruders to the top of the tower,
Where England's one rack made the treasonous cower,
They said: 'Don't bother prayin' to no 'igher power,
'Not God, Jesus, Satan, nor Vishnu!'
Then Night Pigeon broke in and helped them escape,
Wearing frilly French knickers and a bright purple cape
That was fastened around with some really strong tape,
And he knocked the guards out with his trowel.
He marched the would-be time changers away,
And sent them both packing, back to present day,
They languished in prison, where they had to stay
In cells that were dank and quite foul.
And back to the party Night Pigeon flew,
Now the minutes till fireworks were only a few,
And our heroic pigeon, generous, brave and true,
Settled back down in his tree,
So join him my friends, for there's no better way,
Of ending a cold, crisp November day,
So light the blue touch paper, and swiftly, away!
And watch the explosions with glee!