Today’s challenge was inspired by this Gogh painting which reminded me of a story my dad told me about my great-grandfather and the long line of Welsh coal miners in our family. The poem itself is still a work in progress but I thought I’d share what I have so far…
Jus’ a weary Welshman, these days
sittin’ quietly in me lounge chair
all the young’uns are around me
they don’t know me tale, they don’t care.
Young ‘arry came up from London
now, spittin’ image of his mam
can’t be more than six or seven
such a clever little man!
“Bore da, Grandad” he says to me
and looks up with is bright blue eyes
he asks me about me birthday
me tears I try hard to disguise.
Give us a tin of air, me son
so I can speak without getting puffed.
Give us a tin of air, me son
so I can stop feelin’ so stuffed.
Me heart belongs to the valleys.
Me lungs belongs to the mines.
Me legs belong to the colliery’s.
Me soul, is jus’ a prisoner of time.
Jus’ that weary Welshman, these days
rockin’ quietly in me chair
all I want for me birthday son:
“Jus’ get us a big tin of air”
Charlie Ann Alford 