My Journey

My Journey

My childhood days were spent in rapture, on my mother’s knee,
All her love was mine to capture, she gave that willingly,
Food and clothing, little of it, but life was mine to be,
As strength began to fill my soul and banish misery.

This my time and I would ever worship her with praise,
This lady who protected me,  in my childhood days.
My growing days were full of fortune, with pals who came to be,
A major part of friendships forged, that now my memory,

Retains the pride in who they were and what we had become,
But ever does my heart return to bless them, everyone.
All history is mine to keep and my thought will not erase,
For those who walked the path I trod, in my childhood days.

My working days were honed among the coal that called to me,
With the blackened hand of colliers who laid their skill, openly to see,
Their giant arm surrounded me, their cap lamp lit my way,
A miner here and proudly formed, till the ending of my day.

All homage I extend to these, a fond salute I raise,
To these brawny blackened heroes, in my working days.
My golden days are in content, as I quietly recall,
Of who I was and what I am, in comparison to all,

For have I played my part in life, or is there more to be,
And can I hold my head aloft? ‘This my friend is me’.
I pray my lord will judge me clemently, and hopefully appraise,
To who I was and what I am, in my golden days.

Mick