Category: Poetry

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

Customs man with his musket primed, Death within his curled finger, No mercy given within his aim, On a wrecker who dared to linger, Fired

Cornwall Yesteryear, Today & Dreckly