An Ode From A Miner's Grand-daughter

There is a coal house way up north beyond the backyard gate

Where starlings flock and pigeons cough to welcome in the day

The sky is dark, the wind is raw as the village slowly wakes

When men and boys conjoin, in gas-light haze, to find the colliery gates

Down paths well trod they make their way to mine the said black gold

And with lamps in hand they wait their turn to descend the

dank, dark shaft.

This toil is hard and noise is all around as seams are worked so deep

 beneath the ground

The air is thin and chests are tight with choking dust and grime

But men and boys must carry on until the siren sounds

With blackened faces out they come to daylight sharp and bright

And as heavy lungs and tired limbs take their toll they make their

way back home

And there in the distance shines a light - oh what a heavenly sight

In the modest home the wife awaits to greet her grimy man

She too has toiled to make his home a warm and happy place

With polished range and food to serve she sits before the embers

And holds their son against her breast with dreams to be remembered

But for tonight these dreams must wait as she stokes once more the fire

The latch is lifted and he is home - oh what a sorry sight

The grubby clothes are peeled away and in the zinc tub he soaks

Until once more he feels revived and again can live in hope

Time passes by but this still young man now carries old man’s bones

and sees through old man’s eyes

At his son he smiles, his pride and joy, and his schooling paid its worth

For he is leaving soon to follow paths well trod

 But not towards the mine thank God

His mother weeps with tears of joy as all her dreams come true

 Her boy is free - no colliery dust for him but only fields of gold

For Mum

 Christmas 2015

Carol Grainger Spalding