Tribute to Gary Jenkins, David Powell, Phillip Hill and Charles Breslin
Annes morning glories died last night as the miners struggled there inward plight, and we awoke to a silvery, cool September Morn.
The Mórrígan took to flight, and flew up into the night, and we were awakened by the ravens death call.
She bears the news of the miners plight, as they struggle to find the light, how nothing is colorful and bright, and how all diminishes and fades to night.Then tells of the journey that they must take, and that she must facilitate. Homeward bound to the underworld of the summer lands, and through the portal, that silvery door, forward beneath and onward to the cavern floor. Its the story of death and rebirth, the light re kindled and of mirth, as the blackness fades away to the light of day. It's the coming of the new morn as the spirit is reborn and summoning the new day.
Now all the little children in Pontardawe Vale, will remember this fateful tale. The struggle of life and inward strife, of the miners in the caverns deep, that make there little hearts so weep, and so the spirit lives on. People gather in the village square, the roads are blocked off and Pontardawe becomes bare. Candles flicker in the night air under the silvery moon for Charles, Gary, Phil and Dai. The time has come nigh to say goodbye, Merry Meet, Merry Part and Merry Meet Again , and at the cross in Pontardawe square a moments silence and a prayer. May you journey safe, and the spirits guide you. Blessed Be xx
By Penelope Leyson Young