The Old Miner

He turned to us before he died
and said there isn't any 'later'.
He knew that he was on his way
to be with his lord – his maker.

But before I go, I need you to know
how much you meant to me.
For Mum and you kids, were my whole world
when I came home from the sea.

I wasn't a miner all of my life
it merely paid the bills.
Before that I was on the high seas
It gave me my share of thrills.

And, after the war, when I demobbed
I was glad to be with you again.
It had been the thought of you all 'back home'
that had helped to keep me sane.

Though I had talents - I sang and I painted.
Like most of my generation,
I had to find work that could keep us
not get ideas above my station.

And so I went deep, deep underground
it wasn't very nice.
But what else is a man to do
when he needs work – at any price.

More money would have improved our lives,
although we didn't live in a hovel.
But the only skill I was expected to show
was wielding a pick and shovel.

I drew coal dust deep into my lungs,
And worked on my knees in water.
to have enough money to feed us
my wife, my sons and my daughters.

And now that my time is over
I think it's been well spent.
When I see you standing tall before me,
I can go now and feel quite content.

© Ian Lumley

Ian L.,
Thios is brilliant! Welcome back to Potic Skies! I missed you!
/Your friend,
David Fox

Dear **Ian**: Those lines rich in glory
are tellers of no sorry story.
You seem to have dwelt
where passion helps pelt
all moments with rips downright roary.

A lovely tale Enjoyed the read

A beautifully crafted piece of writing full of deep feeling loved the read
Ian R.

A poignant tale... that every person has had a life.. more than what you see at first.. and though sad at the end... you showed his worth.

A story well told about a life well lived, Ian

I enjoyed reading your poem.

Best,
Carol