I fill my Cornish Panties
with carrots and with swede:
I pop in cooked green lentils,
as Vegan is my creed;
add potatoes and some seasoning;
to give the zest I need,
I love these Cornish Panties,
I am a fool indeed.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #Cornish, #CornishPanties, #food, #poetry. #poem, #silly, Kernow
“As I was going to St. Ives…
I realised,
that I,
was heading
in the wrong direction.
I turned around,
retraced the ground
that I had so recently
traversed,
reversed my route,
you might say,
and carried happily
upon my way.
Where was I going to?
Obvs. I was off to Looe –
toodle-loo!”
It’s a lovely day
It’s a lovely day
for someone
but not me;
it’s raining on my head
and blowing a hooley;
I’m sure that I can see
that it’s a lovely day
for someone
but not me.
It’s a lovely day
somewhere
but not here;
It’s hailstorms, rain, and thunder
causing fear;
and I’m hearing in my ear,
that it’s a lovely day
somewhere
but not here.
Lyrics by Robert Stephen Hawker (1804–1875)
A good sword and a trusty hand,
A merry heart and true!
King James’s men shall understand
What Cornish lads can do.
And have they fixed the where and when?
And shall Trelawny die?
Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men
Will know the reason why!
And shall Trelawney live?
Or shall Trelawney die?
Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men
Will know the reason why!
Out spake their Captain brave and bold:
A merry wight was he:
“If London Tower were Michael’s hold,
We’ll set Trelawney free!
We’ll cross the Tamar, land to land,
The Severn is no stay:
With ‘one and all’, and hand in hand,
And who shall bid us nay?”
And shall Trelawney live?
Or shall Trelawney die?
Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men
Will know the reason why!
“And when we come to London Wall,
A pleasent sight to view,
Come forth! come forth ye cowards all,
Here’s men as good as you!
Trelawney he’s in keep and hold:
Trelawney he may die:
But twenty thousand Cornish bold
Will know the reason why!”
And shall Trelawney live?
Or shall Trelawney die?
Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men
Will know the reason why!
From London
to Cornwall
it’s downhill
all the way;
apart from
the lightening
of our souls
and the growing joy
in our hearts.
The lights went out,
as we left Cornwall,
never to be lit again,
unless we returned to the land
of Cornish rain.
There’s no Menhir, like
a Cornish Menhir; and no
Womenhir at all.
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