Tag Archives: #Looe

Upon Seagulls

Upon Seagulls

A seagull laughed at me once;

then laughed at me many times;

but, I wasn’t going to be mocked,

by a seagull;

ideas to my mind soon flocked,

and I knew that I could get back at that gull

within the depths of my rhymes:

“A seagull had a silly laugh,

all the grace of a drunken giraffe;

a habit of being particularly nasty

to a tourist and his pasty;

pinching food with out a qualm;

then perching at a height, so calm;

enjoying its ill-gotten fare

then repeating the feat without a care.”

Oh, that didn’t really seem to work;

I made the gull seem cool,

myself a berk.

It’s hard to mock the feathered ones

that pinch your pasties, nick your buns;

I hear their laughter overhead,

and flinch at them in utter dread.


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.

“To a Mr. Sylvester Swoop Esq.”

“To a Mr. Sylvester Swoop Esq.”

The postcard was addressed to a ‘Mr. Sylvester Swoop Esq., The Quayside, Looe, Cornwall.’

Of course, there was no address like this in Looe, East or West, and a ‘Mr. Sylvester Swoop’ was unknown to the post office and to those asked who lived in that area.

The picture on the front was of a pasty, and the flag of St. Piran was prominent in one corner – however, the post mark was from the town of Paisley in Renfrewshire – most strange.

The message was simple: ‘You can have this pasty, ya black headed- Bandersnatch!’ written, we assume, by an angry hand.

Eventually, after much deliberation, the postcard was pinned to a post on the Quayside at Looe. Perhaps Sylvester Swoop would notice it if he passed.

A Winter (Gull)’s Tale

A Winter (Gull)’s Tale

A seagull once told me

that, although pasties taste nice,

it’s really the thrill of the chase

not the taste

that makes them think once –

and not twice –

about diving and swooping

on unsuspecting souls

who have purchased a pasty,

flaky sausage rolls.

or maybe just a cone of chips.

The Gull just dips his head

and off he goes

follows his beak

and with the smell up his nose

he flies over whelmed shores.

And, in one foul swoop…

… he’s coq-au-hoop!

The Games We Play (#Looe)

The Games We Play (#Looe)

Can you


in East Looe?

Can Dennis

play table-tennis, too?

I guess

you can play chess

if you are board;

but, who says that all games

must be ignored?

Pass them by

if you must

turn a corner,

or a king –

and you are bust!

Ibble the Gull

Ibble the Gull

Ibble was a gull,

a Herring gull,

who flew to Looe

from the fair port of Hull.

He flew South West

to get the best

food that he could,

as any gull would.

The finest fish,

from the freshest catch

the choicest morsel

no other could match.

He stood on a post

watched the people walk past;

followed the boats

or he perched on a mast,

watching the fishermen

as they prepared all the fish;

grabbing a morsel,

or as much as he’d wish.

Ibble flew with the locals

and was accepted by most;

slept on Looe Island,

kept to the coast,

and sang his gull song,

too often, too long,

as he was proud of his vocals,

and soon did belong.

Ibble was a gull

who flew to Looe

from the fine port of Hull,

as a gull should do.

Two Into One

Two Into One

“It all comes back to Looe”

I’ve seen ev’ry menu

from Land’s End to Groats

to see what I could buy

for a handful of notes

From the East Coast to the West

I’ve seen all that there is –

“And what was the best?”

There was nothing I’ll miss

why did I roam

When here at home

there was plenty of fine food to taste

all my travels

all across the land

were a waste.


It all comes back to Looe

no matter what I do

where e’er I go, it’s always true,

that I’ll always come back to Looe

The Haggis of the the North

is a fine looking beast

And the pudding of Yorkshire

is grand;

but why did I travel

so many miles

when my saviour was so close to hand.

And, it all comes back to Looe

No matter where you go

or what you do

wheree’er go, it’s always true,

that it all comes back to Looe

(and I choose)

“Fish, Chips & Mushy Peas”

“I’ve looked on the menu,

so many things to please;

but, I know what I want…

it’s fish,

chips, and mushy peas.

Fresh from the sea,

especially for me;

nothing beats the delicacy…

of fish,

chips, and mushy peas.

With Tartare Sauce,

A tour de force

add it to my…


chips, and mushy peas.

Salt and Vinegar,

Sprinkled all over

add them, please, to my…


chips, and mushy peas.

And wrapped up in yesterday’s newspaper?

No. Not served up like that anymore,

Now in a carton, or plain paper, my…


chips, and mushy peas.

And a wooden fork?

All part of the service

to add to the splendour

of my…


chips, and mushy peas.