
LANDSCAPE by Les Rendell
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
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
With photos by Terry Harry It’s the heart of the Methodist worldWhere John Wesley made his markAnd as the people came to listenSomething profound had
How do you know?When the winter sun is shining and the sea is cobalt blue,When the golden sand is gleaming, Atlantic rollers sweeping inAnd you
Empty winter beachebb tide leaves mirrored pools.Lovers stroll, hold hands.Seabirds wheeling high, reach for the towering crags,swoop to foaming surf.gone the summer throng,stretches the endless
An Alturnun Academic Arguing Attic ArtsBodmin Bully-Boys Booking Beds for bards.Cool Chaps from Camborne Catching the Coach for Brittany…Deacons from Doublebois Drowning their own litany…Emmet
Cousin Jacks and Jills in foreign parts With memories of this Duchy in their hearts;In Philadelphia or Wisconsin, USA,Australia, down Perth or Melbourne wayLiving where Pacific
A poem written by Jill Biddle with scans of the original photos by Terry Harry of Padstow’s Obby Oss. Hopefully it will remind everyone of
A poem by Ruth Tremayne Netter a Quintrell Downs’ “Maid”, as presented at the Toronto Cornish Association meeting of May 2012.There is a huge coincidence
Cornish Trawlers by Mark Snell Why do the Cornish beamers Spend so much time at sea? Hardly setting foot in port these days To see
Alongside many an ancient trackway Linking farm and hamlet, village and town Through all the length and breadth of Cornwall You can find them still
Twuz cauld und raw und dimmitty Tha night Jaw `Awke cum round. We wuz scriffun round tha awld slab Twuddun night fun `orse nor `ound.
A large block of granite, hollow on one side, lying on the banks of the River Fal for centuries was said to have been St.
Cornwall is a special land, its men a special breed, By granite rocks and mighty seas their strength has been decreed, No fear will make