AberfanThe day a school died

ABERFAN (The day a school died)

The black slime slid, like a black devouring slug,

It’s slow sluggish journey towards the school

Inside the pupils sat fresh of face, innocent and full of trust,

Hands clasped in Morning Prayer, for most their last,

These innocents, soon to be Angels

As Jesus said “Let the little children come to me”

These innocents would pay the price of mining coal,

Not for them to grow up, and play in sunlit fields

King Coal rules. The price of mining is always high, in human terms

Scarred valleys clogged lungs, the blue scarred faces and shattered limbs.

And on that day the black slime wiped the Hop Scotch grids from that school yard,

And there is no one left to play, No Gwen, no Rhys nor little Sian,

Soon they would be laid to sleep, on that hill,

Just memories left, with grieving parents.

And on that grey foggy day, at Pantglas School a generation died

And a community changed to a valley of sorrow

The Book is Being Written

How we observe and how we reflect.

The Dreary Faceless

The observations and reflections of a traveller in a foreign land.

The Model House

The facades of a perfect home.

The Woman Who

This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.

IdEgo

Dreams, desires, id and ego.