Aberfan

The cold, enveloping mist descends slowly downwards,

Downwards on an unsuspecting people.

Lights burn brightly, their beams caressing the dark and dismal pits.

Weary mothers arouse sleeping offspring,

Many of who will be no more - tomorrow.

Mothers, unknowing of the peril yet so near,

Say "ADIEU", to so many happy faces.

Mothers who will, a few hours later,

Die a thousand deaths, waiting,

Praying for their babes to appear from what seems to be a hell on earth.

Mothers - who are now half dead -

And yet still live.

by Angela Herbert

Dear Rose

I wrote this peom in the late 1960's about the coal mining village of ABERFAN in Wales which was burried under a slurry of coal waste from the tip behind the town.  I talked to you about it at your demonstration of clairvoyance in Takapuna in March 18th.  I passed this village 2 hours after the tragedy where the slip caused 116 children and 28 adults to be killed while at school.  I was 20 years old at the time and I wrote poem from the heart and without stopping.  When my father died in 1977, my mother found this poem in his bureau and gave it to me to keep.  I could go back and change a few words but it would make the feelings and thoughts change and I know that it would not mean the same.  I hope you feel the words and understand what I was trying to say.  

Kind Regards

Angela

I talked about this terrible disaster at "An Evening With Rose" which I presented in Takapuna in 2006, to illustrate how often premonitions do occurr.  Over 200 people reported experiencing premonitions of this disaster, according to a survey taken afterwards.  In January 1967, a British Premonitions Bureau was set up to collect and identify early warnings in an attempt to prevent such disasters.  A similar organisation was set up the following year in New York.

This tragedy happened 40 years ago thousands of miles away, but in the audience was a lady who had not only been there at the time, but had been so moved by the tragedy, that she wrote a poem of dedication to mothers and children.

...Mothers, the universal chain that links the world together...

Poem by Doris Stokes, the famous English Clairvoyant.  She worte this for John Michael, her Baby son who died

 In a baby castle just beyond my eye,

My baby plays with angel toys that money cannot buy.

Who am I to wish him back,

Into this world of strife?

No, play on my baby,

You have eternal life.

At night when all is silent

And sleep forsakes my eyes

I’ll hear his tiny footsteps come running to my side.

His little hands caress me, so tenderly and sweet.

I’ll breathe a prayer and close my eyes and embrace him in my sleep.

 Now I have a treasure that I rate above all other,

I have known true glory – I am still his mother