Category Archives: Poetry

The Tale of My Banjo – a song

The Tale of My Banjo – a song

I got a banjo

but I just don’t play it

and the people

they love me for that;

then one day

I opened up the case,

grabbed my banjo

and strummed it’s face

and the people

they didn’t like that;

they cut my strings

with a pair of pliers,

said they didn’t

but they’re all liars,

and the people

they were not bothered.

I got a banjo

I do not play it

because the people

snipped my strings.

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I sing to the cows

I sing to the cows

(Please do try singing to your local cows, horses, goats, pigs, llamas, etceteras, etc.)

I sing to the cows,

they don’t mock me, and say,

“Have you ever tried rhyming,

or miming away’;

then they thank me for singing,

‘Please have a nice day,ay,ay.’

And I say,

‘How now, brown cow,

how are you today?

You munch on the grass,

time does pass,

and then you’ll move away.

How now, black and white cow,

how are things with you?

Is it a day

for sitting down,

there on the morning dew?

I sing to the cows,

they don’t mock me, and say,

“Have you ever tried rhyming,

or miming away’;

then they thank me for singing,

‘Please have a nice day,ay,ay.’

“Oh, what a night!”

“Oh, what a night!”

There’s, a, seagull on me head,

and a pasty in me bed,

and I can’t remember what I did,

or said, last night –

and nothing seems to be, quite right.

There’s an anchor on the wall,

and a lobster in the hall,

and I can’t remember where I was,

or who with, last night –

and nothing seems to be, quite right.

I’ve a lifeboat in me drive,

and me oilskins number five,

and I can’t remember how I got them;

it must have been a night, last night –

and nothing seems to be, quite right.

The boat upon my lawn,

seems lonely and forlorn,

and I can’t remember if it’s mine,

it seems to have a Falmouth number

It must have been such a night, last night –

and nothing seems to be,

in any way,

quite right.

Plastic Fish

Plastic Fish

I almost bought a plastic fish tank, yesterday;

for my plastic fish;

but, the cost of the pump

and the filtering thing,

along with the gravel and the sunken wreck,

made me think, ‘Oh, what the heck!’

And so I didn’t

#CornwallTilTheEnd

#CornwallTilTheEnd

Intro Am F C G

Am F

Now listen here my friend

C G

to these words I have to say;

Am. F

and let us not pretend

C. G

that the truth will go away.

Dm

I am here,

Am

and here I’ll stay;

C G

in Cornwall, ‘til the end.

Am. F

I don’t know why the family went away;

C

but, now I’m back,

G

I am here

Am

in Cornwall,

F C G

for forever, and a day.

Am F

I don’t know why the family went away;

C

but, now I’m back, I am here,

G

and I am here to stay…

Am

in Cornwall, in Cornwall…

F C G

for forever, and a day.

Dm

I am here,

Am

and here I’ll stay;

C G

in Cornwall, ‘til the end.

A Photograph and a Poem

A Photograph and a Poem

See the Photograph and Poem here!

I took a photo

to write a poem

I left a blue space

in the top right corner;

but, sadly, my poem

has made the picture worse,

not the picture better,

so please excuse my verse.

©️graemesandford.com

Spiralling Out Of Control

Spiralling Out Of Control

I am in a spiral,

my latest poem is going viral,

it has reached three,

maybe four,

people,

in the two hours since I posted it –

people must love poems about gulls

and, now, I must be off to write some more

poems of gulls upon a Cornish shore.