Poem -
Trothe
I married not for love
nor lust,
I married for the black
gold dust
Forty bags a month,
We had..
But first we had to
prove we're wed..
I booked the church
I made the vow..
and all in search
of concessionary fuel..
Dam you Mrs Thatcher
and Mcgregor Hatchet man.
who closed the pits
desecrated as an old Ash pan..
it was free.. for us..
as long as we breath coal dust.
now Gas and Oil are through
the roof.
our love unkindled it's the truth..
so marry for eternal love and lust
Not bags of coal like what was US..
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Comments
A melancholy verse, but so true, they ruined whole communities.
John
It's true John. we had to get married for the coal allowance.. I make a joke of it now.. Ian Mcgregor.. nobody mentions him, they made him chairman of the NCB to end the coal industry... Not to streamline it.. End it... Bit late in the day now....