The Hand

By Mick Westwood Jan 10, 2016

The Hand!

Feel the hand, that held the lamp, that tested with the flame,
Feel the strength within them, and remember that proud frame,
Remember just how safe you felt, when those arms encircled you,
From that mining man, who worked down there, to make a better life for you.

Remember those blue scars he had, from his battle with the coal,
And just how his skin was pitted deep, so deep into his soul,
And see his eyes, so piercing now, shining in the light,
But resting from the battle of the underground’s black night.

Can you see him squatting now, as he rests his frame,
This is just how he relaxed, – how restful it became,
For this is how a miner eased his body down below,
When working seams that cramped him, made him stoop so low.

Feel the hand that held the lamp, that tested with the flame,
Feel the strength within them, and remember his proud name,
Feel the courage oozing, from this gentle mining lad,
And feel the pride he left you there, when you called him, `DAD ! `

Mick
( Copyright Michael Westwood 2014 )

About the author

Mick Westwood

20716 Up Votes

I am a 71 year old retired coal miner, who spent 30 years working underground. Having time on my hands, and in order to keep my brain exercised, I decided to try to write poetry and put down on paper some of my life experience, and my hopes, dreams and other thoughts. I also do a little gardening, but I am hopeless at housework. Much to my wife's displeasure.