Aberfan

by Owain Glyn
The sky was grey and sullen
Shrapnel rain struck window pane.
Inside sat fresh scrubbed faces
Pink with expectation.

Hair, filled with mischief
Notes passed, with intention.
Teachers with vocation
Intent on revelation.

Unearthly sounds reverberated
Silent breaths were held.
Death's hounds were near, and convocated
Close upon this ground.

Suddenly, the valley, silent
Not a sound was heard.
We looked in shock, in total awe
Could God be this absurd?

We tried with bloody fingers
But to no avail.
The filth that took these poor young souls
Had handed us no trail.

So, where were you upon this day?
And where was our sweet lord? 
When these young souls should meet their end
Could this be his accord?

So, this I ask each one of you,
I ask it too, of me,
Is each soul that died that day
Nearer God  to thee?

Published by Robin

I'm a retired journalist who still has stories to tell. This seems to be a good place to tell them.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: