Horatio Wellington Hannibal Trapp

by | Jan 1, 2006 | Poetry | 0 comments

Horatio Wellington Hannibal Trapp,
Was a quiet and unassuming chap.
He smiled and nodded but rarely spoke.
A pleasant, eccentric, sort of bloke.
He worked in finance, with the Fire Brigade,
And decided where two per cent cuts could be made.

But Horatio’s secret, since seven years old,
Was to ride the appliance, as a Fireman bold.
But at five foot two with a pigeon chest,
He was afraid of the fire-fighters test.
So he worked in finance at the Fire HQ,
Which seemed like the second best thing to do.

Now Horace (as known to friends) Trapp esquire,
Found himself quite by chance, at the scene of a fire.
A candle flickered, net curtains blazed,
The fire alarm was quickly raised.
Ten miles thought Trapp, to the nearest station,
So he entered the dwelling, without hesitation.

At the top of the stairs, our hero discovered,
A spluttering child, that the smoke would have smothered.
The child, just showing the trace of a blister
Sobbed “Help me, please help me, I can’t find my sister.”
With no fear for his limb, or his life come to that.
He had rescued both children, in ten seconds flat.

Then “The Post” heard about this Horatio Trapp,
And they thought him a brave and remarkable chap.
So they wrote of the children he’d saved from the flame
Then asked him about his unusual name,
He smiled and said shyly, “Well, my Dad wanted Nero,
But my Mum wanted names, that were fit for a hero”

So a hero became, bold Horatio Trapp,
Who was given an axe, and a Fireman’s cap,
And a bright commendation from Officer Paul,
Which recorded how bravely he’d answered the call.
He still works in finance, with the Fire Brigade,
But don’t ask, he won’t tell you, how heroes are made.


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