Tag Archives: Kernow

Never Say ‘Ribbit’ in a Boat

Never Say ‘Ribbit’ in a Boat

There is an old Cornish saying,

that I once heard an old Cornishman saying, and it is:

‘Never say ‘Ribbit’ in a boat;

or ‘Rabbit’ or ‘Robot’. ‘

Why?

Well, I know not;

but, I think it’s because

it’s a bad habit to have

and it will inhibit

those others

who inhabit

the boat in question –

perhaps it affects their digestion.

Hold on, my memory jogs…

… was it something to do with dogs?

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The Garden Of Cornwall

The Garden Of Cornwall

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 Cornish Ancestry (or ‘We B’ain’t Be Blow-ins’)

My Cornish Ancestry (or ‘We B’ain’t Be Blow-ins’)

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

The Cornish Chough

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,

“Who Stole Caradon Hill?”

“Who Stole Caradon Hill?”

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.

“Can you hear the bells, Cousin Jack?”

“Can you hear the bells, Cousin Jack?”

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.”

We are going to Looe.

We are going to Looe.

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.