Jayne Davies (5th October 1960 / Abercynon, Rhondda Cynon Taff)
The Miners Tale
An old Miner, sits by the fireside,
Thinking back over the years,
The memories, drift upon him,
Of the toil, the sweat and the tears.
He started work as a young lad,
He wanted to follow his Pa,
There was nothing else, the money was good,
And he thought it would get him far.
But now nearly fifty years later,
After working that big black hole,
His lungs are scarred with the memory,
Of the dirt and the dust from the coal.
Comments about this poem (The Miners Tale by Jayne Davies )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings