Tag Archives: Cornwall

In Hannafore

In Hannafore

I’m in Hannafore.

“What for?” you ask.

To practice my semaphore,

whilst wearing my new pinafore,

that I’ve never worn before,

at least, not before dawn before.

Then I’m off to Looe.

“What there to do?” you ask.

To do what a man just has to do;

he has to see a sea-going gull, or two,

or maybe a couple of thousand –

there are countless, to be sure;

and I’m sure I counted seventeen,

and there were many, many more.

Later, I went back to Hannafore,

to practice my semaphore,

whilst still wearing my new pinafore,

as I had so recently done before.

How can I be the Bard a’Looe?

How can I be the Bard a’Looe?

How can I be

the Bard a’Looe,

when I am

unknown to you?

My poems writ,

and posted here,

never seem to

reappear;

they sink like bricks

in Cornish mud,

I think they shine,

perhaps they’re dud;

maybe my words

are trite and weak,

and it is sad

that I try to seek

the position

that I do…

I only want to be

the Bard a’Looe.

On the A30

On the A30

Moving slowly

on the A Three-O;

having some such

or other

place to go;

then we stop,

and cry, “Oh, no!

Why did we ever take

the A Three-O?”

As I was walking to St. Ives…

As I was walking to St. Ives…

(As there was a very recent earthquake of 0.9 magnitude recorded near there).

As I was walking to St. Ives,

I counted up my remaining lives;

(from the original nine,

six were left;

of three of them,

I was bereft?

then the ground shook,

the earth moved;

you could tell by my look

that I never approved;

I met a man

with his entourage;

he had a plan

and he spoke it large,

“We’re leaving town,

it might fall down;

I normally smile;

but, look at this frown!”

I turned, and joined

his motley crew;

“We are going to Redruth.”

were words he said,

“Woo-hoo!” I replied.

But, secretly, I cringed a little bit inside.

When the rains subside

When the rains subside

When the rains subside,

they beg to go outside,

and we catch the moment.

Swiftly we walk

along country lanes,

and inhale the freshness

that lays all about –

buried, as it is,

under fallen leaves and twigs.

The Cornish Mizzle

The Cornish Mizzle

In Cornwall, twixt the mist and drizzle,

which is something that’s called the Cornish Mizzle;

for, it’s when two like things do meld as one;

that they become a confladum.

In Transylvania, long ago,

there was a thing that joined, just so;

a twilight rising of the mist

known back then as the Transylvania Twist.

“Whatever happened to my Transylvania Twist? spoke Dracula.

Then, he hastened to add, “It is so sorely mist!”

Thus he spoke from his castle keep

when he deemed to arise from his daytime sleep.

The Best View In Looe

The Best View in Looe

For the best view in Looe,

there are a few things you have to do;

firstly, you see, you have to be

in Looe, in Cornwall’s fair county –

and not in one of those other, paler,

imposter Looes;

such as the one in Yorkshire

or the one in Kent;

where some people

have mistakenly spent

their days

wandering around

in confusion,

before, eventually,

coming to the conclusion,

that the Looe In Yorkshire,

or the Looe in Kent,

were not the Looes

where they should have went.

And, secondly,

and most importantly;

when you ‘have’ ascertained

that you ‘are’

in the correct Looe,

and not pining from afar,

you have to look around and see

the best view in Looe,

from wherever you may be.