Best Cornwall Poems
Oh, so average, was this wee lady.
Her ordered life had its hum-drum ways.
Eighteenth Century! All are ready
To hear the voice that's spoken in plays.
But Dolly Pentreath had of it none.
Shunning the new, she kept her own tongue.
When she died, with her life full done,
Twas last Cornish speak that Cornwall heard sung.
I watched
A Cornish chough,
Flying so Cornish high,
Over Cornish cliffs,
In a Cornish sky,
All Cornish observations,
Made by my Cornish eye.
I watched
The Cornish sun,
Masked by a Cornish cloud,
I thought my Cornish thoughts,
My Cornish thoughts were loud,
I viewed the Cornish landscape,
And I felt so Cornish proud.
I watched
The Cornish waves,
Roll into the Cornish bay,
I saw the Cornish sunset,
At the end of another Cornish day,
For I am forever Cornish,
And forever Cornish I will stay ...
do you remember this place by the ocean?
these coastal mornings with their Arena air
the wind from the crab dock almost strong enough
to be swept away,
running from growling raccoons
randomly reading names on boats-
The way I remember The day you said the word traded,
how it changed us, to me,
you brought me here in your little red car
I knew it wasn’t romantic
Dave passed out in the back seat
You chugging back a litre of water
Like you had spent the night in the Saharan
Even the car smelled hungover
Over there by those big rocks where couples watch the sun rise
Just a few feet from where I am now
You calmly wrapped your arms around me
The way waves cradle the sand
Then said “it was no big deal,”
And my sun set, turning me dark
The way you rationally explained it was “part of the game”
told me you had done this before.
Stood on a late spring morning with your arms around a girl
and told her that you were going home for the summer
like you always do and regrettably wouldn’t return with the fall.
Then left maybe on a greyhound or maybe In your little red sunfire.
I think about that girl left back in one of those little Saskatchewan towns
and wonder if she’s writing you this morning too,
I know about her because you came to British Columbia on a trade
and now I wonder if there is letter on its way
from the town in Alberta that sent you to Saskatchewan.
It’s kind of comforting to know that I’m not alone
To imagine all the girls left in limbo
Writing letters curled up by fire places, from small town diners,
Empty arena seats, front porch swings and, beaches
I’m watching the boats now.
Ships come in and make the harbor beautiful for a moment
and then sail away.
The team still skates everyday at five
I picked Dave up from practice
We had a mountain burger
And a couple of black Russians
I should tell you it ended there
But we came down here
And skipped rocks into the ocean
Laughing about old times
When he was the third wheel
And when he took my hand
I let him; it felt right at the time
So I’m not alone, but lonely
Is there a girl in Ontario who has already fallen?
Cornwall is my homeland
And it will always be,
A large part of it surrounded,
Surrounded by the sea.
Cornwall is my homeland,
It’s where my roots are deep,
And this connection with my forbears,
I feel a strong desire to keep.
Cornwall is my homeland,
Of me it is a part,
For it resides within my soul
And is branded in my heart.
Cornwall is my homeland,
It’s where I will always stay,
And when my days are over,
It’s where I will surely lay.
Coastline, rocky, rugged, proud,
Crumbling cliffs in ozone shroud,
Sun-kissed drifts of desert sand,
Golden frame of a sea cradled land.
Fishing village, atmospheric hub,
Brass band playing, outside quaint old pub,
Boats, all sizes, rest near harbour wall,
Wading birds sift through tide-filled pool.
Foliage explosion of a Cornish hedge,
Country lanes snake, and young birds fledge,
Ruminants, punctuating, quilted hill,
Buzzards soar and wise hares are still.
Tin mine engine house, towering stack,
Roof caved in, gorse and bracken’s back,
White clay peak, geometrical and sleek,
Earth’s riches gouged, canyon deep.
Moor-land, open, untamed, granite strewn,
Wild ponies dance to a skylark’s tune,
Tor and beacon, barrow and mound,
You’re in God’s own country,
When you walk this ground.
the room is all aglow
feel the warmth from the fireplace
sitting upon the mantle
a vase, Cornwall blue in color
within it, seemingly translucent
a bouquet of neon daisies
I think of my Cornish identity,
As on a cliff-top bench I sit,
And realise that Cornwall is a part of me
And I am a part of it,
I won’t be taken out of Cornwall
And you can’t take Cornwall out of me,
Though I gaze at far off horizons,
I know Cornwall is where I will stay
And is where I am meant to be.
I await with bated breath to stand on the shores
The land where my mother's last name bores
To watch a blade of grass that he may have sowed
Or watch the waves crest on the among the crowd
To visit the place that he docked
That long voyage to start where he rocked
Distant clouds the ones I see
They may have been the same ones that set him free
I'll never meet the man that started it all
But I'll feel his presence all around home in Cornwall
I think of my Cornish identity,
As on a cliff-top bench I sit,
And realise that Cornwall is a part of me
And I am a part of it,
I won’t be taken out of Cornwall
And you can’t take Cornwall out of me,
And though I gaze at far off horizons,
I know Cornwall is where I will stay
And is where I am meant to be.
Cornwall is almost an island,
Thanks to the river Tamar and the sea,
Its indigenous inhabitants are us Cornish and
We Cornish are a nation - and will always be.
Kernow (Cornwall) boasts its own:
Parliament and laws home grown,
Flag, anthem and crest with fifteen bezants,
Cornish Pasty and Oggy Oggy chants,
Patron Saint and noble Kings,
National bird with its black chough wings,
Unifying tagline of ‘One And All’,
Cornish wrestling and silver hurling ball,
Ethnic Minority status, Unique DNA,
Cornish language still spoken today,
Nationhood recognised worldwide,
Facts are facts and the facts can’t hide.
We embrace our British neighbours
And we respect the Queen,
But we Cornish are a Nation
And we have always been.
Westminster chooses to ignore this fact,
Let it relent and admit its shame,
For whilst the truth beats in Cornish hearts,
A nation – we shall remain…