Gwaith celf gan Rhondda Bagsy
Cerdd gan Andrew Challis

Daffodils From The Dust
Proud coal dust of the Rhondda
washed away like soap,
growing golden now the daffodils
Mother Nature's shoots of hope.

In old miner's helmet nurtured
that once protected head,
on the valleys breeze they play in poignant flowerbed.

No shadow of the slagheaps that once blocked out the sky,
in redundant, cherished tin
the daffodils now lie.

Just like the future of the Rhondda
year on year will grow,
symbolic a reminder like a miner's lamp they glow.