He told me of how coal can be split
To reveal hoof prints of long buried deer
If you get the angle and grain right
Of how, in the deepest mines
Darwin was proved each day
By the strike of a miner’s hammer
And how opening the coal opened him,
Drove him to library and Miners Institute
To learn, wonder, argue
His gentle voice, with its natural grace
Led me into his world
To the child opening trap doors in constant dark
To the young man, passionate for justice
Filled up with the joy of learning
All forged in coal.
“I write poetry because I have to, they come to me. I blog for the company.” – the poet
I love this. Inspirational.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you John. The poem is about my Grandad, who went down the mines at the age of 12. He taught and inspired me.
LikeLike