An Encounter with The Knockers

It happened all so quickly down in there -

there in the mine - working away was I -

all of a sudden - gave me such a scare -

rocks were falling - I had no time to try

escaping - or in helping other men -

no warning was there - not a thing - when -

the tunnel caved in. All in a sprawl

others were lying about - everything broke -

the mine all dust and clutter. That is all

honestly I can remember - till I woke.

My heart then sank - I'd hoped it wasn't true -

hoped that I'd dreamt - but true it was - and you -

the rest you'll not believe - I dare say. Still,

what happened next I'll try my best to tell.

I - Cubbie am I - woke - and damp and chill

it was - and pitch dark. Where the ceilings fell

was deep inside. All over I was sore,

and felt dazed like I'd never felt before.

No way out could I feel. For hours and hours

I saw nothing and heard nothing, wishing

I could just see my wife - and boys of ours -

and that instead I'd made my bread by fishing.

I groped but blindly with no candle glow,

and felt forgotten trapped so far below.

Then in the distance - faintly came a voice -

murmurs that nearer grew - bringing a hope.

A few more joined it - how I did rejoice -

that even in this darkest place I'd cope.

I cried out loudly - surely they would hear.

Alas - I heard those voices disappear.

Later behind those fallen beams and rocks -

I'm sure I heard it though my mind was blurred -

there came mysterious and ghostly knocks -

that echoed through the tunnels. These I've heard

some rumours of - some say they are a sign -

and often warn of a collapsing mine.

Then to my disbelief I saw a hand -

disembodied, floating through the air -

holding a candle. Finding strength to stand

I followed it. Drifting, it led me where

a small but passable crevice was. I squeezed

myself through, and my heart was somewhat eased.

Through many winding tunnels I was led -

until we reached an opening I knew.

Then saw I something - something strange ahead -

knee high - with tools - some figures - strange but true -

large noses - dressed like miners they appear -

long skinny limbs - mouths stretched from ear to ear.

Benign they seemed, then silent went their way.

I'd heard of them - the Knockers they are called,

the spirits of dead Cornish miners - they

warn of cave ins. For long I stood enthralled -

then looked up - where - relieved - my sight was caught

by shafts of light, this cheered my every thought.

They warn of rockfalls with their knocks - if left

some food like crusts and treated with respect.

Ignore or mock them and you'll suffer theft

of tools or lunch - or other tricks expect.

So that's what happened - now to bed is best;

however dazed I am, I need some rest.

Reviews

[maya_online]

From the way it was seperated to the speaker, everything about this poem was amazing, I've heard of the knocker folklore, but this completely grasps the story, starting with despair and leaving with hope, even a slight bit of nuance as the speaker says "I need some rest". Absolutely lovely, great work.

[Christopher Laverty]

thank you for your feedback Maya, much appreciated!