Cornish Poems - Poems about Cornish

Cornish Pen

Seems Craig’s got a contest again;
I’m finding out with much chagrin 
my stanzas in sapphic
are jammed up in traffic.
I’ll get there, but I don’t know when!

Dolly Pentreath

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.

Cornish poem We Cornish are a Nation

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

Cornish Identity

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

Cornish Hen

Stuffed Cornish game hen
for the hoards of kin:
we’ll eat till we’re stuffed,
then do it again.

Sulci Rupes

Looking at the need
               They devolved the 
               means to which they
               Would

My Cornish Identity

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

Clerihew Cornish

A coalminer by trade Norman Cornish*
in his forties achieved his artistic wish
Like Lowry, at the end of his working day
locals&locality depicted in his own stylised way

*https://normancornish.com/

Cornish Eye

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

Cornish Cove

Cornish Cove
Fishing
Ever wishing for a bigger catch
Lobster, Crab and Pollock and Bass

Fresh Air
Can be found there
So people come from near and far
And of course too many travel by car

On the beach
A paradise in reach
Please take away all your litter
Or You’ll leave the locals bitter

Cornish poem Cornish Shore

The Cornish shore …
Where golden sand lies next 
To dappled grey granite rock,
Where the sea breeze sweeps
And the mussels flock,
Where the rock pools gather
And the small crabs patrol,
Where the white foam curls
And the breakers roll,
Where the sea birds call
And the salt spray stings,
Where the seaweed sunbathes
And the limpet clings,
Where a stream’s course meanders,
And reflects the

Cornish Shore

The Cornish shore …
Where golden sand lies next 
To dappled grey granite rock,
Where the sea breeze sweeps
And the mussels flock,
Where the rock pools gather
And the small crabs patrol,
Where the white foam curls
And the breakers roll,
Where the sea birds call
And the salt spray stings,
Where the seaweed sunbathes
And the limpet clings,
Where a stream’s course meanders,
And reflects the

Cornish Tradesmen

Now, Cornish tradesmen do a proper job,
But they might not do it straight away,
For if they say they’ll do it ‘dreckly’,
There might be a slight delay …!

NB:  Although the ... English ‘directly’ 
       and the ………... Cornish ‘dreckly’ 
       sound very similar,

The Lady Down the Lane Craig Cornish Poetry Contest Slam

The lady down the lane

Who resides at Cottage Number 19 

The Ambulance just took away


I did not know her actual name

Nor where she came from

If in fact she even received vistors

Or had a family of her own

Nor where or when in fact 
her funeral will be held


The only thing i can recount

Is her garden was

Cornish Hen

The Hen
Goes cluck cluck cluck
Then comes the Crane
Selling his D refrain 
Hen react

The web is cobbled
The spiders finished their jobs
Out come the flies
Nature, tried to defy
He recant

Cyanide kills all the living
Chemical dreams 
Make the sane ones scream
Life moves on
Then care no more

As they live in poetic illusions
Or so it seems...

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