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Poems About Miners

It's in the blood.

From the Schoolyard to the Coalmine,
as our fathers before,
Ingrained to this life,
there was little else more.

It's how things were
with those unchanging ways,
To be a Collier-boy
for the rest of your days.

This suddenly stopped;
all came to an end,
When they closed down the pits
it finished this trend.

Yet now each night
while deep in my slumber,
I'm back with my "Butties"
in that place down-under.

 

J. H. Smith.

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