A Welsh Coal Mines web page

My Village

Up and down the hills we go. 
Abergwynfi above,Blaengwynfi below
The dividing line, the the Western square.
Cross it at you're peril, if you dare.  
For the winds of March, the snow and rain
Beats through ones bones, with relentless pain
Where Mac's and Wellies are a must
As some protection from the rust.
But where ever you my deign to live 
The people of the village will always give 
To charities and those in need 
A cry for help they'll always heed 
For friends and loved ones across the sea 
a welcome here there'll always be

Val Hurlow, Blaengwynfi