Asleep beneath the mountain, green and gray,
their treble voices multply sing-song
calling the children, to come out and play.

Their melodies recall their yesterdays
of schoolyard games and rhymes, sung with the throng
asleep beneath the mountain, green and grey.

Where hand in hand, their bodies gently lay,
and croon upon the wind their plaintive song,
calling the children to come out and play.

Carefree they run and leapfrog, bright as day,
forget the sliding mud, and grievous wrong,
asleep beneath the mountain, green and gray.

The earth is hallowed and they'll never stray
from rainswept hills and vales where they belong,
calling the children to come out and play.

In life, within a lover's arms they'd sway
and softly talk of love, how much, how long?
asleep beneath the mountain green and gray,
they call the children to come out and play.

Mary Rice - Deal, Kent

---

Mary writes: "I remember listening with horror, when the news of the Aberfan Disaster first broke on the wireless, and telephoning my mother to listen in also, as the true extent of the disaster unfolded.

"I was born in the Garw Valley, and although I lived in London then, my father, and both grandfathers had been colliers, and many of my Welsh relatives still worked in the collieries in the Garw, and subsequently became involved in the rescue work.

"Some years ago I wrote this villanelle, being inspired by a favourite verse form used by Dylan Thomas. I thought the 40th Anniversary of the disaster might be an appropriate day to give it a wider audience."