Rhondda

By Clive Holloway

Terraces in strings cling to mountains in a line
And streets that led you only upward to the mine
Mountains of brown and green with spots of white
That are the sheep that roam,
head down on and on and out of sight

Jet black rivers that flowed through coal stained banks of ink
And old gey stone buildings that have been that age since built
Narrow roads for the horse and cart built in rows
Now hold queues of cars touching toe to nose

Colourless towns brightened only by the hoardings
Advertising long gone offers
blowing loosely on the boardings
Closed up shops once offered us the chance to buy
Now decayed and left alone to die

The beauty once enjoyed by all from history and age
Can be brought to live again in those green hills and vales
Ours is the time to repaint the valleys green

Mountain, hills and blue green rivers with crystal water stream
Jigsaws rebuilt now can make full that beautiful picture
Of the years before the ravage of Rhondda's industrial mixture

coal and iron mines came and went from the valleys of South Wales in less than 150 years. Not everywhere was ravaged by industry, the Gower and towns like Caerphilly and the Vale of  Glamorgan were untouched by the development around them.

Even in the mining valleys themselves, life is changing. The unremitting rows of terraced houses, the pit heads, the smoking factory chimneys have been replaced by a brighter, cleaner, greener environment