The garden of Cornwall
is right outside my door;
the hedges they need tending,
the sheep are on the moor;
the narrow roads are wending,
and shall do for ever more.
My family left Cornwall, heading East,
in search of wisdom, or a wise man, at the least;
after many years they realised the truth:
that there b’aint be wisdom in a single tooth;
they searched on high
and they searched down low,
all across the foreign land
they were fain to go;
until at the last, he who spoke for them said:
I want to taste once more the pasty
and die in a Cornish bed.
The Cornish Chough
said “I’ve had enough!”
and left our coast for ever.
But, it did come back
to supply the lack
and spread its Cornish feather.
Upon the shield
atop the field
of fifteen golden bezants
With fisherman and miner
And ‘Onan Hag Oll’, one and all –
our motto – it lends its presence,
Somebody stole Caradon Hill! –
it was gone when I went there, yesterday;
it’s quite big,
I couldn’t have missed it,
and I was definitely looking the right way.
Perhaps it will come back
all of its own accord;
for who could have stolen a hill that big;
but, if it doesn’t…
no, that doesn’t bear thinking about…
Oh, now, today, it’s back;
let’s dance a little jig.
I can hear the bells of Menheniot
calling me to prayer;
but, maybe they aren’t calling loud enough
for me to travel there.
“St. Lalluwy…” I call,
“Why so do you ring;
there’s twenty thousand Cornishmen
who cannot hear a thing.”
Excited, we are,
by the fact
that we are toodling
off to Looe, today.
So excited, that I
am word-doodling
about it.
We shall see gulls,
boats, the Banjo Pier,
because all of those things,
when in Looe,
are here.
Walking the lanes,
popping in shops,
stop for a coffee,
Looe is the tops.
And, when all’s said and done,
our day out in Looe
is guaranteed fun.
