Tag Archives: Cornwall

‘As I looked through a window’

I looked out upon the world,

and the world looked back at me;

I saw a seagull flying by

heading for the sea;

I called out ‘Gull, where be you to?”

he looked a while at me

and answered “I be off to Looe,

it’s time now for my tea.”

And I was happy at that.

A seagull’s lament

I may think a pasty is a crab

I may think that a dace is a dab –

it’s all food to me.

Do you see?

You may call me unhip

for my love of a chip;

or names worse than that

that you call –

I’ve heard them all.

You may shoo me off,

when I’m walking about

like a toff;

or lash out with a foot

but, I gracefully put

to flight,

and line you up for a present from aloft,

“Bombs away!”

Revenge is sweet,

and my landing is soft.

“Enough! Enough!” said the Cornish Chough.

“Enough! Enough!” said the Cornish Chough.

“I’ve seen it all, from blag to bluff,

from Land’s End

to the Tamar’s tuff,

all around the county!”

spoke the Cornish Chough –

in a voice, some say,

that seemed rather rough.

The Seagull Flies

The seagull flies,

and, having flown,

espies a chip, a pasty, scone;

whereupon, said gull calculates the angles

required for a heist,

and gains a Vegan Moroccan pasty,

very tasty, yet quite spiced.

.

The gull had never heard

of Montezuma’s Revenge –

until now.

And gull pledged to gain his own revenge upon

the silly people whilst the Sun it shone.

.

So, flying high, it chose its victim

aimed, and released, splattering poor Tim

from Sunderland,

who wore his badge of pride

with warmth inside,

and white-splotched coat

that in the Sun it dried,

forming a new pattern for e’er to be,

of his being a target

at Looe-on-Sea.

In the Yurt 2525

Ziggy Zager and Evie Evans we’re doing some serious glamping in Far East Cornwall for a week towards the back end of the season, when the weather changed for the worse.

“Hey, Zigs!” expressed Evie, “The weather’s changed for the worse!”

Zigs looked out of an alternative window to the one Evie was peering through and observed that it was indeed so.

“It might be a duvet day, Evs! Certainly not a day for exploring the locale.”

Luckily, the yurt they were in had a decent log burner and a plentiful supply of fuel. Building up the heating so it could be self-sufficient for a fair old time, Ziggy and Evie headed back to the safety of the bed.

All around the glamping site many others were similarly bunkering down for the foreseeable.

“Oh, no, it’s the Exercise Men!” – Extended.

One day, at about three of the clock in the morning, as the smugglers were offloading their latest cargo of tax-avoidance items at a small inlet upon the island of Looe (aka St. George’s Island, Looe Island, or, way back in time, St. Michael’s Island), there was a voice heard from the lookout, old George Penwithit, his voice still loud and doughty even after seventy-three winters and almost as many summers. ‘Boat approaching!’

‘Oh, no, it’s the Exercise Men!’ exclaimed William Telmother, the youngest of the gang.

Twenty minutes later they were all doing press-ups, star jumps, and crunches, before they were to run two laps of the island.

Whilst leaning against a 7-bar gate

I look over

(for I am tall enough)

the gate,

and see what there is beyond:

fields, distant woods, lone trees,

cloud-occluded skies;

a part of South East Cornwall

that has melded with my heart;

I am happy to have come here;

and I love the silent Sun

that beams down upon

these little acres.

The day we move to Cornwall

The day we moved to Cornwall

from Cornwall,

will be a day indeed;

moving ‘within’ the county

will be a bounty,

for us,

and just the thing we need.

Looe Island Haiku

This is Looe Island,

it looks like a schoolboy’s cap,

and the gulls live there.

The Tale of a Seagull Called Flap. (Revisited)

This is the ongoing tale

of a seagull called Flap;

not a chip-stealing seagull,

but a nice kind of chap –

.

here’s the thing…

Flap, only has one wing.

.

He was born that way,

many years ago,

so a one-wingéd life

is all he does know;

.

and, ‘Yes!’ I’ll answer,

before you do ask;

Flap ‘can’ fly,

but it’s a bit of a task;

he needs a good run up,

and a following breeze;

there must be a springboard,

to flex out his knees;

and when he is airborne,

by leaving the ground,

he doesn’t fly far,

just around…

and around…

and around.

.

However, Flap is of being an inhabitant of Looe,

as many fine seagulls are wont to do –

East? West?

(East is better, but West is best –

that should keep all the Looevians happy,

for they think that their side of the river

is the only side that is truly blessed).

.

Flap’s home should have been Looe Island;

where, at night, most other gulls went;

but, being unable to fly there,

walking the quayside was how he spent

his time, eating a crumb or a stale bit of crust; which was sufficient,

if rarely sublime;

but, needs must.

.

He did get to the island once in a while;

(as the crow flies it was less than a mile)

and he could cross the short distance from Hannafore on a very low tide;

or wait for the offer of a ferry-boat ride;

but, then, being stuck on the island

was also a pain;

for once he had got there…

getting back again!

.

Flap was a bit of a loner;

though he did make friends with a chip-shop owner,

who put a few tid-bits his way once in a while;

which treats Flap loved,

it caused him to smile

at the kindness of strangers,

of those with a soul;

for, not everyone hated seagulls;

but, Flap still felt a hole.

.

Flap wished for a mate,

a gentle gull to call his own;

not just for a date,

but for a family to raise,

on their island home…

and then in walked Phlip

a gull just like Flap,

one-wingéd,

what on Earth are the chances

of a thing happening like that?

.

Phlip was a pretty Polperro gull,

that had travelled to Looe for a change;

the posh people of Polperro

had pitied poor Phlip,

but told her that she looked, ‘much too strange’;

and, so, she had headed east;

east to find a mate;

and the day that she arrived in Looe

her life was to change,

it truly was an auspicious date.

.

Flap and Phlip

when eyes did meet

they knew they’d met the one;

and Phlip and Flap

did dance on feet

in the shimmering rays of the setting Looe sun.

.

But, how to get to the island?

.

Flap had a left wing;

Phlip has a right;

by holding close together,

together…

they took flight.

.

And now they live upon Looe Island,

where they have made themselves a nest;

and do they have plans for babies?

well, I think you can guess the rest.

.