The Pit Poem by Jim O'Donnell

Working deep inside the pit
My body covered in all kinds of grit
Digging deep for blooming coal
Working out my heart and soul

Working here since just a lad
Taking after my old dad
Starting work before daylight
And coming out when its night

Walking down our gas lit street
Coal dust on my hands and feet
The coal fire roaring and burning bright
Enough to take us through the night

Sitting in our old zinc bath
Hot water fresh from the hearth
Sitting till I go all wrinkled
Oh blooming hell I need to tinkle


01 02 2009
Chellaston