Aberfan 21st October 1966: A Poem by Ron Cook

Where was God that fateful day

At the place called Aberfan.

When the world stood still and the mountain

Moved through the folly of mortal man.

In the morning hush so cold and stark

And grey skys overhead.

When the mountain moved its awesome mass

To leave generations of dead.

Where was God the people cried

Their features grim and bleak.

Somewhere on their knees in prayer

And many could not speak.

The silence so still like something unreal

Hung on the morning air.

And people muttered in whisper tones

Oh God this isn’t fair.

The utter waste of childhood dreams

Of hope and aspirations.

A bitter lesson to be learnt for future generations


But where was God the people cried.

The reason none could say

For when the mountain moved its awesome mass.

God looked the other way.

The Battle of Trafalgar: 21st October 1805

Let others hail the rising sun!

I bow to that whose race is run.

'Twas noon, when England's gallant fleet

    The sails of France and Spain discern'd;

Or victory or death to meet

    Each British tar with ardour burn'd.

Destructive showers of bullets fly;

    The scuppers flow with streams of blood;

Harsh thunders rend the vaulted sky;

    Fierce lightnings blaze along the flood.

Undaunted NELSON foremost stands—

    The cause his Country's and his King's

When, lo! to aid the Gallic bands,

    From Hell malignant Envy springs.

In human guise, at length to stop

    The Hero's bright meridian fame,

From Santa Trinidada's top

    She takes, alas! too sure an aim.

Th' envenom'd shot deep-pierc'd his heart,

    A heart disdainful of all blows

By man directed:—But, what art

    Can guard against infernal foes?

Two Spanish crews with pride advance.

    The Temeraire seem'd nearly won;—

When Victory snatch'd the flags of France,

    And strew'd them o'er her favourite son.

The splendors of proud Gaul are past!

    Britannia mourns her NELSON'S fall.

E'en foes shall deck his grave:—THEIR MAST

    HIS COFFIN, AND THEIR FLAGS HIS PALL.

Chelsea from “Nauticus" the Gentleman's Magazine, LXXV (November 1805), pp. 1044-1045.