Garreg Goch by Arthur Cole
Items in this story:
'Garreg Goch'
Snow covered peaks, nature's extremes,
shrouded in mist, cold mountain streams.
Lush green valleys, a Welsh paradise,
in the blink of an eye, a castle of ice.
Many have perished, over the years,
loved ones heartbroken, so many tears.
Crash sites adorn, this pleasant land,
inclement weather, dealing 'death' hands.
'Garreg Goch' is now, a pilgrimage site,
wreckage adorned, a Wellington's last flight.
MF509 that day, crashed and burned,
six souls on board, never to return.
They set out that night, on a routine flight,
engine trouble, iced wings, fast losing height.
Shower clouds hampering, they would not abate,
'Garreg Goch' hillside, was their deadly fate.
The Brecon Beacons, a jewel in our crown,
don't take for granted, harsh weather renowned.
That fateful night, seventy two years ago,
six of Canada's finest, Beacon's weather their foe.
Copyright: Arthur Cole (88) 2016.
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