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When the Mine Whistle Blows

This poem is the introduction to my new book, “We’ll Keep a Welcome in the Hillside, which will be available on amazon.com soon. The story is one day in the life of a Welsh coal miner, and his family. Please comment on the poem and please share it with as many people as you can.

When the mine whistle blows,
and the work week ends,
some men wend their way,
to their supper and rest,
But others take a different road,
because it’s the one they like best.

It leads to the Stag and Crown
where they drown their misery away,
with a song and a pint or two.
They’ll not think of their woman
or their children waiting for them
to come home at the end of the day.

Their big hands are calloused
from the shovel and the pick.
Their faces are blackened with coal,
and the only thing are wanting now,
is a song to cheer up their soul.

The colliery and the coal face,
have been left behind in the dark,
been left for another day,
because tonight is for singing,
and drinking all their sorrows away

Their big hands are calloused
from the shovel and the pick.
Their faces are blackened with coal,
and the only thing are wanting now,
is a song to cheer their soul.

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