Tag Archives: #Hannafore

On the beach

Three little dogs,

twelve little feet,

one virginal beach,

as the tide moves out of reach.

Given no more than a few minutes

of running to and fro,

there is no part of the revealed sand

that doesn’t have a paw-print show.

Holes have been dug,

ragged rocks run ‘round,

and all can be discovered

from the tracks on the ground.

Three tired dogs,

twelve tired legs,

“We deserve a biscuit treat!”

the spokesdog says.

Incoming Tide

Incoming Tide

I just found out

that my welly boot leaks

now I’ve got a wet foot;

well, fancy that!

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.

Love Island?

Love Island?

Pictures available here

It isn’t Love Island;

and it isn’t really Looe Island;

it’s St. George’s Island

that I love to catch

in the pictures I take.

The Sentry

The sentry in red

was easily bled

by an arrow

I fired from my bow.