The Poems of the late Harry Fokinther

The Poems of the Late Harry Fokinther.

A few years ago an old workmate of mine now departed Charlie (Straggy) Handcock gave me a note book to read which contained the poems of Harry Fokinther a workmate from Charlie's days at Ramcroft colliery. Harry moved from Ramcroft colliery when it closed and went to work at Oxcroft colliery where he was later so tragically killed. His wife gave Charlie the poems and he would let people borrow them to read. I suggested that I could photocopy the original and do a few copys for Charlie to pass around so that the original was kept from the riggors of public reading, I also asked if I could keep a copy to which Charlie agreed.

I enjoyed reading the poems so much that I tried to persuade Charlie to have them published to raise money for a suitable charity, this he declined to agree to.

I think these poems should be in the public domain and respecting Charlies wishes I have produced only a few copies for other people to read.

The original writing of each poem is signed with the authors signature and contains comments about some of the poems origins this has been included. The poems have been written using the original spelling and punctuation but differ slightly from the originals in so much as all words of the poems start with a capital letter and each poem starts on a new page.

I have added a few notes on Ramcroft colliery at the end of the poem section for those interested. My father and uncles worked at Ramcroft colliery before its closure.

Enjoy

A.N.Bridgewater June 26th.1998.

The Ancient Miner.

Over four score years and ten,

This beauteous earth I've trod,

And for this wondrous span of life,

I humbly thank my god.

He gave me health and kept me safe,

In him I'll put my trust,

For fifty years with scarce a break,

Ive toiled within earths crust.

l did not come through this unscathed,

Of knocks I ve had my share,

Through hewing coal my backs become

A tattoists nightmare.

At early sobbing of the morn,

My pick i'd swiftly weild,

Till pearly shades of eventide,

Shrouded lane and field.

Long and ardous were the hours,

To earn a meagre pay

In winter time for weeks on end,

I scarce saw light of day.

To supplement our frugal fare,

I'd go with dog and gun,

And poach the game from anywhere,

To get both food and fun,

Oft times our fruits of toil upheld,

Some rich mans grand retreat,

Yet we were called the social scum,

And names I won't repeat.

Enough of my unholy past,

Let's to the future fine

For there's splendid opportunities,

For young men in the mine.

I must confess I am confused,

By machinery I see,

Being taken to out local mines

On the wagon of N.C.B.

How they worked these monstrous things,

I could never understand,

Or how they got them down below,

To me it beats the band

My sons explained and gave them names,

Of shearer and trepanner,

It seems to me there getting coal,

By button, key and spanner

What a contrast From my day,

No shot firer to pester

For the sole devices that I knew

Were siscol and sylvester

You do not have to work so hard,

But you must go to school,

To make these titans cut and load,

Needs no blundering fool.

I must accept this modern age,

Of juke box and guitar,

Though tolerant l try to be,

It gives my ears a jar

I watch my grandsons do the twist,

It needs energy I'd say,

I can also do the twist,

Just half an ounce a day

They sing of girls with fancy names,

Like Jezebel and Selina,

I still prefer sweet Nellie Dean

And my old concertina.

I do not grudge them their gay time,

Or criticize their ways,

I'm only thankful I've been spared,

To see these brighter days.

If the Lord who gave me this long life,

Would my youth return to me,

I'd go and train with all the lads,

For a miner I would be

Possessed once more with radiant youth,

With prospects bright and clearer,

Down the pit I'd go again,

And learn to drive a shearer.

The old man portrayed in these verses actually Lived, and strangely enough showed great approval to the modern mining after a full working Life in the mines of Derbyshire he lived to be nearly ninety two.

Coal.

One million years and more I've lain

Neath rugged hill and windswept

Abundantly my seams expand,

Beneath the face of this fair land.

In ages man endured the test

Of delivering in my stubborn breast

With implements so crude and frail

To penetrate my rocky mail

Mids't sweat and grime I have teen

On womens backs and shoulders torn,

On little chudrens loins I'd ride,

From early morn 'till eventide.

Thus the tale of my fast life,

A history of shame and strife,

Tis' gone forever this cursed stage,

To a better and brighter age.

Now with every mechanised device,

I'm torn asunder in a trice

With drills I'm bored and powder fed,

Then blasted from my rocky bed.

On rubber belts I am conveyed,

Let not this progress be delayed,

For when I see the light of day,

for all your toil and sweat I'll pay,

The brightest jewel in the crown,

Or other gems of great renown,

Are but mere dross compared with me,

Black and grimy though I be.

For from my loins spring countless things,

From battleships to minute springs,

Tractors, Locos, Light and Heat,

And even the Daily Bread we eat,

And countless other things untold,

Ar iso from my resourceful fold.

In this your darkest hour of need,

If you would still your children feed,

Arise in one united band,

And hew the coal beneath the land.

This was composed as an appeal to all British Miners to return during the critical War Years.

Ted.

For half a century you have borne,

The rigours of the pit,

Its every phase you have endured,

Yet still you'r fighting fit,

A remarkable achievment,

A record to admire,

Over three decades you've fought,

Explosion, Gas and Fire.

The gallant rescue teams you've led,

Whose deeds we do not know,

Appalling must have been the scenes,

You witnessed there below.

Fire can be mans greatest friend,

Or be his deadley foe,

You've fought it on the surface

And you've fought it down below,

Heroic deeds are oft portrayed,

By gilded decoration,

Those scars of blue suffice

Your value to the nation.

Leasure you have sacrificed,

It has not been invain,

Many men can thank you,

For relieving him of pain.

A ribboned tunic goes to show,

Your service in First Aid,

A worthy member of St John,

Efficient, sure and staid.

Unseen perils of the mines,

Did not your zest impair,

You are quite prepared to meet

All dangers from the air

For should our country be attacked,

In this Atomic Age.,

We are certain youth be there,

Should hellish fire rage.

Clear headed and courageous,

With physique of a bull,

God gave you all these talents,

And you used them to the full.

Eventually you will retire,

Though you will not rest,

We who know your qualities,

Here wish you all the best.

This poem was written as an appreciation to Albert Edwin Smith, known to us all as Ted. Fire officer at Ramcroft Colliery.

The Wheel.

In this age of automation

With inventions commonplace

When man is sealed within a shell

And hurtled into space

Marvelous new creations

Some whose benefit we feel

All owe their great appearance

To the turning of the wheel

It came out of antiquity

Its maker no one knows

It may have been a branded slave

In the land where sandstone blows

Some haughty Pharo's vassal

Or some woaded Briton could

And yet some slant eyed mongol

May have started it in wood

Revolving through the ages

Serving man in devious ways

Tyred in bronze and iron

To these synthetic days

Up the highest mountain

Down the deepest mine

In planetary travel

In climate foul or fine

In the worlds casinos

The rotating roulette wheel

Can give a man good fortune

Or bring him down to heel

At the Spanish Inquisition

It played its gory part

In Ceasars vast arenas

On Tyburns tumbrel cart

Numerous are its uses

Some of sorrow some of joy

From intricate computor

To simple childhoods toy

Rolling ever onward

With the craven and the brave

Bearing mankind from the cradle

To his destined end, the grave

When er'e you see these wonders

In plastic wood or steel

Remember in their inner hearts

There surely turns a wheel.

To the Lads in the Telephone Exchange.

Ardent and efficient men

Are an asset to their trade

We've quite a lot but I know three

Who are within this grade

You may call them when you wish

The're allways in your range

I refer to these good fellows

In the telephone exchange

There's Tom and Dennis and there's Jim

Who likes his pinch of snuff

These three important men

Surely know their stuff

No radar in ship or plane

Did ever work so well

They are able (and they often)

Get us through to hell.

I've never seen them down below

And can never understand

How they know each district

As the lines upon their hand

You never can escape them

They'll track you till you'r found

They are keener than a poachers dog

With a ferret underground

Not only do they know your voice

They know your every mood

Whether you'v been on the tiles

Or simply off your food

Let some emergency arise

Chose what or whom you need

By their aid it will be sent

With accuracy and speed

Although they never weild a pick

Or ply a dobbie key

Their work is most essential

I'm sure we all agree

If Jim could find the winners

Like he finds the men below

William Hill and all his tribe

Would sure be full of woe

When next you want to know the time

Be you English, Welsh, or Scotch

Spare these most obliging lads

And buy yourself a watch.

The River.

Emerging neath the distant hills

With a gurge and a quiver

As a infant from its mothers womb

Begins a mighty river

Nurtured by heavenly rain and snow

Infused by crystal spring

By willowy brook and tiny rill

Mid banks of moss and ling

Growing stronger every mile

Becoming deep and wide

Upon its rippling silvery back

Both coot and swan doth ride

Abounding with aquatic life

To numerous to tell

Within the shade of weedy banks

The vole and otter dwell

Natures element for fish

Roach and perch and bream

Rejoice with spotted trout and chubb

In shallows and midstream

Within its green and murky depths

There prowls voracious pike

Marauding every living thing

In its ferocious strike

Here the lordly salmon leaps

Agile as the flea

Taking some unwary fly

On its journey to the sea

A paradise of water sport

The anglers delight

Here the brawny college crews

Display their sculling might

Here some rich man cruising by

In streamline luxury craft

And some venterous country lad

Aboard a flimsy raft

Many a romance has begun

Upon its banks tis said

Many a lass with troubled mind

Has ended on its bed

Passing through this rustic phase

To some industrious vale

With yellow wave and ochered bank

Begins a sordid tale

Injected by mans noxious streams

The spoil of mine and mill

Detergent from the kitchen sink

Besmearing wharf and sill

Residue and oily waste

Polluting every wave

An ailing or unwanted pet

Oft' finds a watery grave

Writhing in mans harness

Like an unbroken colt

In boiler, pump, and turbine

Creating therm and vault

Upon a broad and billowing back

Ply craft of every size

Wallowing barge and dingy tramp

Replete with merchandise

Each bank a hive of toiling men

With hawser, hoist, and crane

Preparing all the nations wares

For every shipping lane

Here the rivers journey ends

It's reached the estuary

Merging with each briny wave

Tis' lost within the sea

So is the life of man my friend

As a river from its source

A surge of joy, a roll of pain

We take within lifes course

Whirling youth and wavering age

A rippling laugh, a moan

Drifting on lifes stream until

We reach the great unknown

The Miners Prayer.

Restore oh Lord my strength this day

That I may truly earn my pay

Let thy power refresh my soul

Then I shall fill my share of coal

With thee oh Lord I have no care

When I set foot upon the chair

Into the mine I will descend

Supported by an unseen hand

A friend who me will nee'r forsake

Though my heart and back nee'r break

Beneath the pits perpetual strain

My faith in thee will ease the pain

Though death be ever lurking here

Disguised in rock or faulty gear

His icy hand I have no dread

Thy names a cover for my head

I know it is the will of thine

That I should labour in the mine

And when my strength seems at a loss

I think of thee upon the cross

It is thy will that I should toil

A thousand feet beneath the soil

Though my heart and back both break

Please Lord do not me foresake

Protect me from the dangers here

Disguised in rock and faulty gear

The deadley gas we cannot see

Dear Lord I put my trust in thee

How frail are we in this dark hole

Compaired with mighty seams of coal

Yet by thy power we know the way

To bring it to the light of day

Perpetual Motion.

Man has strove for many an hour

To capture self sustaining power

In some device entirely free

To revolve until eternity

He'll oft' create some fine invention

That functions well yet needs attention

Automation and remote control

Brought him almost to his goal

Success would take him to the moon

He'll till the ocean bed quite soon

The elements freely utilize

To meet his needs of every size

Something free for nothing done

Theres no such thing beneath the sun

It would surely need some brilliant notion

To bring about perpetual motion

Modern Art.

Distortion seems to be the thing

In modern art today

By painted brush and printed word

In music, dance and play

Twisted wire or broken spring

Will often gain a prize

A daiper slapped upon a wall

Is called a bright sunrise

Some famous piece of music

They will mutilate and mar

Arrange it with some raucus voice

With amplified guitar

A long haired youth will take the floor

With gesture rude and riotous

And caper in a frenzied whirl

Like a pupil of St Vitus

They get approval and applause

And I myself would give it

If I could understand these things

But they say I am not with it.

Testament.

Like many members of my trade

My future it is most unstaid

I bear the hazard of the mine

And trust my luck will hold out fine

I take my pleasure when I can

And try to help my fellow man

I follow no particular creed

No time have I for vice or greed

Simple things in life please me

Like birds that sing upon a tree

For one thing I would run a mile

To see an infant smile

When I this glorious life must leave

I know my kind will truly grieve

Although I shall not leave a cent

They will not grudge me what I've spent

The Rat.

Vile member of the rodent clan

Despised by bird and beast and man

Because of your predacious ways

No poet ever sang your praise

With every race in every clime

In mansion grand, or sewer slime

You follow in the wake of man

And steal from him whate're you can

Nothing comes amiss to you

Rich fare or obscene residue

Prolific is your breeding way

Your loathsum tribe is here to stay

On human creatures of ill fame

We wrongfully bestow your name

Though very little good you do

This human kind is worse than you.

Shadows.

Distinctive in a sun at noon

Fainter by a yellow moon

Dappled neath a tree a quiver

Corrugated on the river

Lively in a firelight dance

Welcome in a sweet romance

Enchanting over maidens eye

Cause of matrons secret sigh

Eerie in ancestral hall

Amusing on the nursery wall

Aiding crook and painted jade

In robbery and oldest trade

An asset to the sleight of hand

To spiritual and mystic band

Shadows cast by dull and wise

Differ only in their size.

Black Diamond.

It does not grace a royal crown

Or glitter on some ladies gown

Yet sparkle at some great event

It is no costly ornament

Unlike the gems that shine on high

It is not pleasing to the eye

But there within its ebon core

Lies energy and wealth galore

By brawny arm and level head

Tis wrested from its stoney bed

Prepared by scientific ways

Despite the cost it always pays

Commodities worth more than gold

Rise from its ever fruitful fold

Diamonds clever men can fake

Black diamond coal, they cannot make.

The Closing of Ramcroft Colliery.

It seems we now have reached the end

Of a long eventful phase

The masters say our pit must close

For it no longer pays

And yet theres nothing we can do

The belts must cease to roll

Ramcroft will leave a page unique

In the history of coal

In the nations darkest hour

It more than played its part

Our countries needs were well supplied

By men of noble heart

Men differing in charecter

Men of every sort

Men studious and curious

Men who follow sport

Scrap dealers and fish fryers

And flopping great big liers

Political fanatics

'Top Hard' men with rheumatics

Great lovers, men of prayers

Artists, rhymers, and two mayors

Men as bald as coots

Men who never buy pit boots

A happy pit these men have made

Despite their whims and trends

As records show they know their jobs

And I'm proud to call them friends

Most miners like a drink of beer

Yet strange as it may be

These men all have a tendency

For a good strong pot of tea

It's every mans perogative

To criticise and scorn

Unjustly it has been applied

To our friend Percy Vaughn

How do you gaurd the interests

Of such a tempremental crew

How would you approach the 'boss'

To get a man his due

He's done his very best for all

For the clever and the crude

I hereby express for all

Our sincere gratitude

Very soon this little pit

That nestles in the vale

Will be just a mine of memories

That make many a childhoods tale

It's caused me many an ache and pain

And sometimes grief and tears

Yet I hope my future pit will bring

As many happy years

And now its with a heavy heart

And a feeling strange to tell

Knowing many feel the same

I bid a last farewell.

Ramcroft Colliery.

(1916-1929 & 1939-1966).

Prompted by the local and national search for future coal reserves for the Staveley company to aid the war effort it was proposed in October 1914 to further exploit the Palterton and Heath area. An area which had been worked during the nineteenth century by smaller shallow mines on the Sutton estates. The original lease being owned by the directors of the Staveley company from William Arkwright on a sixty three year lease for 5,000 acres of coal which they purchased in 1882.

The Ramcroft colliery company was formed under the guidance of Charles Paxton Markham of the Staveley company and exploited the Top Hard seam in shafts of 152 yards deep as a direct result of the war effort. After the war it was decided to construct a branch line into the colliery with sidings, two pieces of land were leased on March 25th. 1919 for an annual rent of £37:2s:6d.

For a ten year period from 1929 the mine was mothballed and three men maintained the colliery.The colliery reopened for coal production as a result of the Second World War in 1939 with the Hardwick colliery company controlling it. The five hundred colliers employed could supply around a quarter of a million tons per annum from the Top Hards, High Hazels, First and Second Waterloo seams.

Experiments were carried out at the colliery during the 1940's with the first hydraulic pit props, the colliery was vested into the National Coal Board in 1947. In 1935 a pipeline was constructed from the colliery to the coking ovens at Holmewood to supply it with water to quench the batteries, so a six inch diameter pipe and pumping station were installed to supply the waste Ramcroft water to the plant.

A drift was constructed in 1952 to link the First Waterloo to the Top Hard seam to increase production, this was short lived as the colliery closed in 1966 and shortly afterwards the area was opencast and the last remaining seams the Clowne, Sough and High Main removed from the Deep Ring Bell opencast operation and the land returned to agricultural use once more.

Harry Fokinther.

Photograph kindly donated by his family

Harry Fokinther.

Accidentaly Killed.

Oxcroft Colliery

November 2nd 1966

Age 53 Years.

'In The Bowels Of The Earth

His Toil Is Done

But In Gods Own Garden

His Lifes Begun'.

Many thanks to Harry's family for correcting some discrepancies on the page, for the photograph of Harry and shedding a little light on someone I never personally met but have enjoyed his poems so much. A.N.B.

The man referred to in "The Ancient Miner" was Harry's grandfather, Joseph Attenbrough. Harry left Ramcroft colliery on the Friday and started work at Oxcroft on the Monday and was accidentally killed on the Wednesday, he is buried in Scarcliffe Churchyard.