THE OLD PLOUGH It’s the local village pubAnd is the heart of ShortlanesendWhere Mark and Ian welcome youOn that you can depend Besides the drinks
There’s a statue by the riverA woman sitting on a benchShe is gazing at the waterWith a rower’s steel intent Ann Glanville is this rowerShe
Where do I live?The question begs an answer in perplexity,For if my body works and bides in EnglandThe heart that pumps the bloodstream giving breathCan
Life wanders on, year in, year out, apaceAs melancholy haunts the backward gaze;But memory holds alive those years of graceOf Cornish childhood, golden bygone days.
‘Tes time to riddle out grate, mautherAn’ to maake us desh o’ tay,Fer be gwain up temberen ‘ill, mautherIn coose fer anawther day. ‘Twas ‘ansum,
On the extreme south coast of CornwallLies the picturesque Cadgwith CoveIt’s the home of fishermen’s familiesA very special treasure trove The fishing fleet is centralIt’s
A ship lay off the Cornish coast one fearsome stormy night.She struck her bows upon the rocks and quickly sank from sight;But from the wreck
We’re in lockdown yet againAnd advised to stay at homeThe virus is now rampantThank God I’m not alone It seems the risk gets higher1 in
I gaze upon the granite moor and mark the summit of the tor;And all around the windswept green, changing hue to shades between.While over where
Renowned for cliffs and beachesA seaside town with natural charmAnd on the outskirt village hamletsWith cows, horses and a farm There were tourists in the