A Welsh Coal Mines web page

Goodbye Morgannwg

Steeply up the rolling weaving fields of May 
short by the sheep fed grass
divided by the sweet narrow brook 
telling of my thirsty youth 
teaching of thoughtless ways
reminding of the lost days

Staring down to the grey green valley of rain
wrought in the name of coal
visited by the cloud puffing train
picking all 'my lovely flowers'
reaching my broken heart
dreaming again the cold days.

Soaking in the wet black singing trees of Wales
tin roof rings in morning 
waiting too long at the pithead stand
white window frame in red brick
preaching of god full ways
bartering all the clean days.

No longer seeing the place where it was
roots reach over rumble and clank
where Bevin boys swung tools at night
black faces up the Tridwr Road
tar soap will wash them white
smelling again those dim days.

In memory of the screaming coal mine death
brave men count their dressings
slagheap faith in hollow eyes
chapel stone in every pocket
breaching walls cut thick veins
reflecting one sad last look.

In memory of my Uncle Bill who worked at the Windsor
Colliery, Abertridwr. Thanks for taking care of all of us during the 
war. Thanks to the Bevin (Bevan?) Boys who stayed at our house 
and taught us kids card tricks and jokes. The house was always full 
of laughter. Last but not least Auntie Fret the love of my young life 
because she reminded me so much of my Mam.

Alexander Riches, El Paso Texas                  February 22, 2004