Lancashire Coal Miners

Ode to the Lancashire Miner

In Lancashire's shadow, where the coal seams lie,

Beneath the earth’s surface, where echoes sigh,

The miner descends, in darkness confined,

With sturdy resolve, and a spirit aligned.

Dust-laden air, with a whisper of dread,

Each heartbeat a rhythm, where fears are bred,

Through tunnels unyielding, his lanterns cast light,

On faces of toil, in the depths of night.

The pickaxe strikes down, like thunderous fate,

Chiselling dreams from the stone, while the hours abate,

With hands raw and callused, he wrestles the black,

Each shovelful gathered, no turning back.

The coal, like a treasure, lies hidden and deep,

Yet the price of its promise, is the silence of sleep,

For the earth holds its secrets, with shadows so tight,

And the miner, though weary, still battles the night.

In the murmur of engines, the pulse of the pit,

Lives the heart of a brotherhood, bound and knit,

For together they toil, in the bowels of the land,

United in hardship, a resolute band.

Yet outside the pit’s mouth, the world seems so bright,

While within, it’s a struggle, a relentless fight,

With dreams of the surface, where the sun’s rays can gleam,

And hopes of a future, more than a dream.

So here’s to the miners, in the dark so profound,

Who labour in silence, where courage is found,

Through the dust and the grime, their legacy stands,

In the heart of Lancashire, forged by their hands