DOWN IN THE VALLEY

DOWN IN THE VALLEY

Down in the valley beneath the mist, a heartbroken miner at pit wheel shook his fist.

"Damn you, damn you, damn you!" he cried. He told his mate how his two sons had died.

They both got up this morning full of joys; by noon the old man was told he had lost his two boys.

One just seventeen, the other twenty-three; he cries, "I shall see them no more. Lord, how can this be?"

Four others as well got killed; two got hurt. He identified his boys by a belt and a shirt.

He told how, when the explosion came, he was in his bed; he was awoken by sirens and noise at the pit head.

Fear growing strong, he felt sick inside. He put his head on the pillow as if he knew; he cried.

Someone knocked on his door, crying, "There's been an explosion; it was feared six men were dead."

Before he could say anything, the newsbringer had run on ahead.

"Oh why, oh why, oh why?" he cried in vain. "Why have my boys gone and I remain?"

His friend, so saddened, made no reply; he just shook his head with tears in his eyes.

The old man told how he too should have been down the pit that day, but a bad stomach had kept him away.

Now this old man is due to retire next year; he hails the pit he once loved so dear.

His wife dead long ago, now his boys—his future does not hold many joys.

This Poem is out of my Book Coal Dust which I wrote as a tribute to my Dad George Hurst in 1992/94. All copyrights to Georges Girl 2025