Pop Crackle Fizz

The humid breeze of a summer’s night whisks by

Whispering excitements, ready to fly.

Surrounded by the best people of all,

We wait for the shower of light to fall.

The music hushes; the sprawling crowd stills,

Then the percussion of radiant frills

Explode in the sky as blossoms of light,

Like magical flowers hopeful and bright.

Whizzing and singing, they pop, sparkle, shine

In patterns and colors almost divine.

When the glorious show fades to black skies

And stars take their place, more subtle but wise,

We caper down the lit street arm in arm,

Singing, ‘God protect our nation from harm.’