A Miner's Legacy Poem by ANDREW BLAKEMORE

A boy was born a miner's son
He never knew him well,
For his father died when he was young
Within that pit of hell,
His mother left to fend alone
She did all she could do,
And taught him honest Christian ways
The only ways she knew.

Her son was all she had in life
She gave him all she had,
He brought her joy when all the world
Around her made her sad,
In him she saw her husband
And a memory of the past,
With all the happy times they shared
That sadly couldn't last.

They starved within their solitude
They had no food to eat,
Too proud were they to ask for help
Or beg upon the street,
She scrubbed and ironed, she washed and cleaned
She swept each dusty floor,
But barely earned enough to keep
The landlord from their door.

As she worked her fingers to the bone
Her health began to fail,
Her son did tend to all her needs
As she grew old and frail,
He mopped her brow when fever came
And prayed for her each day,
Yet sadly prayers were not enough
And soon she passed away.

He wept then at her funeral
When they laid her down to rest,
Beside her loving husband
For it was her last request,
He placed a rose upon her grave
Beside the cross of stone,
And he'd never felt so empty
As he stood there all alone.

He found a job within the mine
He then grew up so fast,
Became a man and not a child
His pain though never passed,
He slaved and toiled upon that seam
The only life he knew,
And never saw the light of day
Nor saw the skies of blue.

Until one morn the shaft collapsed
And trapped him underground,
The other miners called his name
But they heard not a sound,
They tried their best to save him
But alas it was in vain,
They found his lifeless body
And all did feel that pain.

The town came out to mourn him
As they laid him in the grave,
Beside that of his parents
Where the flowers gently wave,
Where sunlight falls upon their stones
And shadows softly lie,
To rest in peace for evermore
Beneath the wondrous sky.