Tag Archives: Kernow

As I was (not) going to St. Ives

As I was (not)

going to St. Ives,

I thought I’d think upon my many lives;

the one where I was just a newt;

that season hanging as a fruit;

the lifetime spent waiting for Godot’s what;

the shortest day, as a Mayfly,

that I’d almost forgot;

the long half-of-an-hour trying vainly to survive;

or the hundred and twenty short years when Moses was alive;

and afternoons drinking gaily with my pals;

or night-time flights with a school of owls;

the briefest tenure as a living thing;

or a long, long, life sowing, then harvesting,

then sowing and harvesting,

as my father and son, wife and daughter,

had, and have, for centuries, done.

Having thought upon my many lives,

I then thought about all the times,

I had actually gone

to St. Ives.


Looe Paper

We need Looe Paper,

we need it now

as we all must have

rolls to play;

cast us, somehow;

roll out the barrel,

(without Colin Farrell –

he’d just act up –

as actors do tend to do)

And the headline for today –

which is garish – does say,

‘We need Looe Paper!

Yes, we do!

Because we all need something

to read on the Looe!’

An Wedhen (The tree)



an wedhen.

Looe 3007

In a thousand years from now

will things be just the same,

when they’ve changed so much in a hundred?

And, would we be able to claim

knowledge of a place

where we thundered in youth

and withered in age,

when the world spins ever quicker,

just to reach a final stage?

We walk these streets

as those before,

and look out to sea

from that same shore;

but, tomorrow is another day,

what happens then…

well, who can say?

Nadelik Lowen Haiku

“Nadelik Lowen!”

I called to all the people.

“Kynnyav yw!” they cried.

delyow omhweles

delyow omhweles

my a yll aga gweles

onen hag oll.

leaves fall down

I can see them

one and all.

Down the Looe!

My poetry has gone

down the Looe,

my life…

down the Looe,

when it’s do-able,

we do like to go

beside the seaside

to a town called Looe.

Upon the Banjo,

with a banjo on my knee,

though it’s cunningly disguised as a


playing my tunes,

with a nod to U2

it’s Madness, I say,

I’m playing ‘It must be Looe’

and it sounds like ‘it’s a Beautiful Bay’.

English / Cornish Haiku

“Hy lodrow o gwynn

a-ugh hy diwlin.” he said,

“Did ‘she’ dress to please?”

PS ‘Hy lodrow a gwynn / a-ugh hy diwlin’ translates as: ‘Her stockings were white / above the knees.’

In Cornwall…

In Cornwall…

At half-past-two

the sky is blue

there’s not a cloud to see;

by half-past three

it rains on me,

and it also rains on you.

Which is the sort

of thing we get…

in Cornwall.

We go for a drive

down narrow lanes,

in our shiny motor car,

but the lane is only


wider than we are;

and then we have to factor

in the meeting of a tractor,

and reversing is all we seem to do,

Which is just the sort

of thing we get…

in Cornwall.

But, we love living here…

in Cornwall.

In Cornwall

we spend our nights and days,

for Cornwall

has its own special ways,

forever want to stay…

in Cornwall.

As I was going to St. Ive (rhymes with ‘leave’)

As I was going to St. Ive,

I met a man who had to leave,

he said his time was up, and so,

he had nothing left to do, but go.

I asked him ‘where’ he was going to;

he said, ‘What’s it go to do with you?’

I thought a while, and then replied,

‘I’ll meet you on the other side.’

‘The other side of ‘what’? he asked,

And there we stood,

ten feet apart,

and strangely masked;

thinking about what might have passed.