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 ***** 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 azure sky,
Where a starfish gazes skywards
And white clouds go scudding by.

By all means take treasured memories,
But please take nothing more,
And leave nothing but your footprints
On this sacred Cornish shore …

Sea calm,
Crew slept,
Dark side,
Sea kept,
Tide raced,
Waves crept,
Crew woke,
Sails prepped,
Coiled spring,
Waves leapt,
Overboard,
Crew swept,
Left behind,
They wept.

For the sea has no respect
For the nautically inept …

We embark on a new journey,
Let our travels never end,
Keep us heading in the same direction,
Though the track may sometimes bend,
Let happiness be our destination,
Let our trademark be a smile,
Let us enjoy every footstep,
Not begrudge a single mile,
Let us revel in new discoveries,
Greet each fresh dawn with pleasure,
Let us find our inner-wealth and know ...
The true meaning of treasure.

Don’t always march to another’s drumbeat,
Nor always dance to another person’s tune,
But march in time to your own heartbeat and
Dance and dance, till you reach the moon …

he seasons come,
And the seasons go,
The seasons ebb,
And the seasons flow.

The spring green hue,
The rich autumn gold,
The clear summer blue,
The grey winter cold.

The changing mask
Of our Mother Earth,
Winter her death,
And spring her re-birth.

Spring starts the tune,
Autumn beats the time,
Summer sings the song,
Winter blows the chime.

The seasons change,
Yet all stay the same,
Nature’s illusion;
Her own magic game.

The seasons come,
And the seasons go,
The seasons ebb,
And the seasons flow ...

In early eighteen-forty-four,
In Cornwall’s heart; on Bodmin Moor,
Charlotte Dymond, a young farm maid,
Had her throat slit with a steel blade,

She crossed fast streams and deadly bogs,
Found her way through mists and fogs,
But couldn’t stop that fatal blow,
That stole her life and laid her low,

She walked to meet someone that day,
Just who that was ... no one would say,
Found days later beside a track,
Laid on a cart; her shroud a sack,

The surgeon, Thomas Good, was fetched,
Had in his mind, her white face etched,
Charlotte untouched by fox or crow,
Had she been moved ... he did not know,

No evidence was ever found,
But her young boyfriend had gone to ground,
Fingers so quick to point his way,
Matthew Weeks panicked; ran away,

The hapless *******, was soon caught,
No other culprit was ever sought,
The judge was just a rubber-stamp,
Bodmin Gaol was dark and damp,

The scaffold built, the crowds arrived,
Matthew swore he had not lied,
The floor gave way, the rope drew tight,
Was justice done ... the verdict right?

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.

In the quiet of the night,
Where darkness steals the need for sight,
When most are asleep, I lie awake,
Waiting for the dawn to break,
Long past trying to count sheep,
My brain’s shallow, but my thoughts are deep,
My mind’s trying to put the world to rights,
But I think it might take ... several nights!

LICHEN laden, granite cross,
Reminder of a celtic culture’s loss,
An icon to placate a harsh deity,
A religious symbol, an outward plea.

LADEN cross, granite lichen,
Not a mere whim, but a deliberate decision,
Ley-line power, here to focus,
Awaiting another mid-summer solstice.

GRANITE cross, lichen laden,
Sculptured for a dark-haired maiden,
Elaborate and ultimate statement of love,
A prayer for a union to be blessed from above.

CROSS, lichen laden, granite
Manufactured on a far off planet,
Crafted and left to become immortal,
Marker of a time traveller’s portal.

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.

You said we could vote
And the verdict -
You would Protexit,
You said that -
Brexit Means Brexit,
You said to trust you
To take us to the Exit.

So why did you decide to Hexit,
Slow it down and Perplexit,
So confuse and Complexit,
Try and reverse and then Wrexit,
With you we now feel very Vexit,
So now stop your betrayal,
It’s time for you to Corexit.

It’s simple enough,
Brexit does mean Brexit
So save our democracy,
And please, please -
Just Exit!

This flower cut,
Whilst in full bloom,
Now rests in peace,
Within this tomb.

May we forever be lovers,
May we forever be friends,
And should we hurt each other,
May we quickly make amends.

May we enjoy our passion,
But never let compassion die,
Thinking in selfless terms as we,
Never emphasising I.

May we forever be soul-mates,
May our love eternally last,
May the food of love sustain us,
May we never have to fast.

May we use each other’s strengths,
When we are feeling weak,
May we both learn to compromise,
And always as one voice speak.

May we never keep dark secrets,
May we never tell each other lies,
May we both work unceasingly,
To ensure our love never dies.

There was an old wreck-marker from Fowey,
Who had been at sea since he was a buoy,
But when his mooring wore through,
He went where the wind blew,
Ending his days on the beach - as a toy.

STRAIN is pressure on the muscle,
Stress is pressure on the brain,
A culmination of anxieties,
Hard to bear, hard to explain,
It's a stressful world we live in ...

PRESSURE on the muscle, is called strain,
Pressure on the brain, is called stress,
Over exertion of the grey matter,
Cerebral tiredness, mental duress,
It's a stressful world we live in ...

STRESS is pressure on the brain,
Strain is pressure on the muscle,
Symptoms of life's hectic pace,
Attempts to cope, with life's hustle and bustle,
It's a stressful world we live in ...

PRESSURE on the brain, is called stress,
Pressure on the muscle, is called strain,
Perhaps trying too hard to compete,
A desire too strong to attain,
It's a stressful world we live in ...

Don't expect too much from life,
While still always trying your best,
Put your shoulder against the wheel,
The strain in your muscle is real,
But leave all the stress for the rest!

My heart was very battered,
It was also broken,
It had endured so, so, much,
Of which I haven’t spoken.

With your love and tenderness,
My heart pounds once again,
Our hearts now beat together,
And there they shall remain.

Now …
My heart has found its true love,
My heart has found its home,
My heart is yours forever,
My heart is yours alone.

Just a young sapling
With an unhindered view,
It chose its position
And then grew where it grew.

Just a singular tree,
Not in a forest, copse or wood,
Preferring its own company,
It stood where it stood.

A tree in its infancy
Coping with life’s highs and lows,
It takes on all challenges
And it grows where it grows.

Standing resolutely alone,
An independent tree,
This somehow reminds,
Reminds me of me.

We are here today to celebrate the love
You so obviously share,
A love you wish to formalise
And publicly declare.

A couple truly meant for each other,
A couple truly meant to be,
A couple whose friends and family,
We are very proud to be.

We hope your happiness continues,
That you have much more in store,
We hope the memories made today
Will stay with you - forever more.

I love you as long as the day
And as the night is deep,
I love you when I first awake
And when last I fall asleep.

You’re as pure as a snowfall,
As invigorating as a sharp frost,
My heart and soul to you have
Been voluntarily lost.

You are as fair as a moonbeam
And as bright as the sunshine,
I’ll never take your love for granted,
For I feel blessed that you are mine ...

A child’s daydreams;
They come, then, go,
They crystalize,
Then melt, like snow.

The young child plays;
She knows no troubles,
Her daydreams drift,
Like clouds of bubbles.

Her life, so simple now,
No stress, no strife,
May this remain so,
The whole of her life.

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.

My heart’s pumping,
My brain’s starting gun has fired,
Watching Stephen Hawking on TV
Has made me feel inspired.

He’s working out the laws of the Universe,
The mysteries of creation to unravel,
I still haven’t fully grasped the rules
Of either Monopoly or Scrabble.

He agrees that the Universe is made from string,
As the Super String Theory suggests,
Whilst I thought string was only good
For making fishing nets and vests.

He’s trying to work out what happened
Fourteen billion years in the cosmological past,
I can’t even work out what happened to myself,
The Friday before last.

He’s mathematically calculating what happens
On the edge of a Black Hole,
I’m mathematically struggling with additions,
And my seven times table.

Despite my lack of brain power, I’m inspired
To challenge Stephen Hawking’s theoretical Big Bang,
Surely if the Universe is made of Super String,
It would have been more of a Big Twang?

You are the viola,
And I am your bow,
You are the mountains,
And I am your snow.
I am the song-sheet,
And you are my tune,
I am the night sky,
And you are my moon.

You are my true love,
The love of my life,
My best friend, my lover,
My soul mate, my wife.

"Is there anyone for stuffing?
Well done George, send us down your plate,
Auntie, if you've finished with the cranberry sauce
Could you please pass it across to Kate?"

"Brian can I interest you in my brussels?
There's nothing quite like a good sprout,
If anyone wants anything passed,
Don’t wait to be asked, just shout."

"Richard, will you please sit and eat,
And just stop irritating Claire,
No, you better wash your hands first,
You're getting gravy in her hair."

"Ted, you wanted more potatoes,
What, you only want one or two?
But the ones left really aren’t that big,
I'd better pile on a few."

"Sarah, you're not looking after your young man,
The poor boy's been left to starve,
Go and get him some more turkey dear,
Your Father will help you to carve."

“Malcolm, not too much in Grandma’s glass,
You know what she gets like,
Open another red for Father,
I’ll stick to the bubbly-white.”

"Well if everybody's had enough,
I think I'd better finish the peas,
Richard, don't cough over the table,
Remember your manners, please."

"Ah, make way for Father and the Christmas pud,
I hope he hasn't overdone the brandy,
Saints preserve us . . . Father’s on fire. . !!
Oh, well smothered dear, three cheers for Mandy,
Hip, hip, hooray,
Hip, hip, hooray,
Hip, hip, hooray."

"No, Louise, you can't pull the crackers yet,
We're saving those for tea,
Richard, take that stupid tinsel off your head,
And put it back on the tree.”

“Everyone go in the other room and play games,
Just leave all the dishes to me,
I’ll do the washing and drying up,
While I’m sorting out something for tea.”

“Richard please don’t tease the dog,
Claire don’t pin that tail on the cats,
Lloyd, play nicely, stop fighting with Louise,
You’re ruckling up all of the mats.”

“Hmmmnn … not quite enough sherry in this trifle,
Hick … I think there’s probably more in me,
I’m sure I’ve been working far too hard,
Hick … I’m feeling quite dizzy.”

“They say that Christmas comes but once a year
And aren’t I just glad that’s so,
It’s nice to see all of them for a while,
But it’s even better to see them go …”

I loves … I loves …
Bumbly Bees,
With skinny legs
And big fat knees.

With golden rings
And black ones too,
They buzzy buzz
As all bees do.

They hover low
As they have planned,
Choose a flower
And then they land.

Grabs some pollen
And buzzes away,
But will be back
One bumbly day.

I loves … I loves …
Bumbly Bees,
With skinny legs
And big fat knees.

You could have called it a blind date,
The manner in which we first met,
But one that was truly desired,
Not one made for some stupid bet.

A year has now passed since that day,
My life then so completely changed,
When my future was realigned,
And not just merely rearranged.

With the little sight I had left
I really liked what I first saw
But my social skills were lacking
And my emotions were red-raw.

She saw through my anxieties;
The pain I had coped with for years,
She seemed to sense the imprint left,
By many invisible tears.

Empathy was her strongest suit,
That was obvious right away,
Her bright sunny manner ensured,
We had an enjoyable day.

It’s strange how two can so quickly
Be bonded and then become one,
And all seeming as natural
As the rising of the dawn sun.

With the little sight I had left,
I really liked what I first saw,
And I knew the feeling was mutual,
When she nuzzled me with her nose
And then offered me - her paw …

Oh, Golden globe;
Far out to sea,
You seem to beckon;
Call out to me,
You light a path
For me to follow,
Your voice is warm,
Not cold or hollow,
Though sorely tempted,
I must decline,
But wait once more
For you to shine.

The clouds moved by,
The wave crests danced,
But I couldn’t leave;
For I was entranced ...

We had a most horrid schoolteacher,
And us children did all hate her,
She’d shout at us for no real reason,
And threaten to see us later,
She had a dip on a Florida trip,
And was swallowed by an alligator,
But only crocodile tears were shed,
‘Cos we were all just … gladiator!

Countless poppies now grow
Where men had once stood,
Or had peered from a dugout,
Or had hidden in a wood,
Where bullets had hailed and
Young lives were squandered,
As poisoned gas smothered
And big guns thundered,
Those in charge must have surely
Questioned and pondered.

Poppies grow in peace now,
Gunfire no longer heard,
Let this be the case forever
For PEACE - is the golden word.

Brexit means exit,
Brexit means exit.

It doesn’t mean:
Ignoring the masses who had their say,
Action replaced by incompetence and delay,
Having thirty-nine billion pounds to pay,
Giving our fishing waters away,
Compromising the borders of our precious UK,
Calls to vote again, the Brussels Mafia way,
Hope of a nation reduced to a faltering ray,
Democracy treated as if its had its day.

You promised,
You promised,
To implement what the people decided,
Those promises now watered down,
Refuted and then derided.

But most of all,
But most of all,
Mrs May,
Our vote to Leave,
Was definitely,
Was definitely,
Not a vote to stay!

If you could shrink infinity,
And then place it inside -
Just one grain of sand,
My love for you would fill the universe,
And would still be –
Desperate to expand.

I want to walk in my golden years,
On the Cornish beaches’ warm gold sands,
Where my footsteps are unhurried,
And my route is seldom planned.

I want to sit on the wooden benches,
Overlooking those dark blue bays,
I want to breath in this fresh salt air,
Until the ending of my days.

I don’t want to become immortal;
Living for forever and a day,
I just want to savour life in this world,
No matter how long or short my stay.

I don’t want my life extended for the sake of it,
With no reason or rhyme,
I just want to live in the here and the now,
And enjoy this - my quality time.

Chosen Child, crowned this night,
Whilst fireworks light the sky;
Take over please as ruler now
Before we elders die.

We leave you all this Planet and
Dark Universe beyond;
Your word will travel far and wide,
Like ripples on a pond.

Our generation tires now,
The baton we pass on;
Please take it and run swiftly, for
The human race ... goes on.

Don’t look back longingly,
To the youth that you once had,
You only remember the sunny bits,
Your mind has locked away all of the bad.

Have your dreams and chase rainbows,
If that’s what you want to do,
But enjoy the present, and look to the future ...
For that’s all that is waiting for you.

I’ve found someone who …
I can love forever – I love so much,
Their loving ways, their caring touch,
Will stand by me when times are tough,
Never saying that they’ve had enough.

I’ve found someone who …
Can raise my smile and decrease my frown,
Will help me up when I’m feeling down,
Will make life’s worries melt away,
Providing the sunshine of my day.

I’ve found someone who …
Will always listen, try to understand,
Will guide me with a patient hand,
Will love me both in body and soul,
Making my happiness their main goal.

I’ve found someone who …
Will be both gentle and be kind,
No better soul-mate could I find,
Always willing to talk things out,
Never needing to rage or shout.

I’ve found someone who …
Is willing with me – to share their life,
To make us a team of man and wife,
But most of all - I’ve found a friend,
Here by my side - till my life’s end …

I once had a relation-ship,
But she sailed far away,
Up anchored and set course to find
Another sheltered bay.

Our stormy and tempestuous affair
Had ended, sunk at last,
The current which pulled us apart,
Had run so strong and fast.

She didn't even wave, but left me
At low ebb, high tide,
Her face was stern, my head was bowed ...
My salty tears to hide.

My flag, alas, she flies no longer
From her stately mast,
Our swell affair was present tense,
But sadly now 'tis past.

She left full speed ahead, her sails
A'billowing like a cloud,
If happiness equals silence,
My heartbreak's cannons loud!

I stare from port, my eye on a star,
Bored, like a boat without rudder,
My emotions beached on a lonely shore,
Left to flounder and shudder.

A vessel like her will shore-ly land
Another love-struck fool,
I'm only one fish in a big big sea ...
And her heart is fathoms cool!

Raindrops descend, puddles form,
A stream engulfed, a river is born,
A course is set, the sea to reach,
Meandering ponderously to a far off beach.

The sea reclaims its myriad young,
Kidnapped by clouds, thunder-slung;
The storm is long past with calm all around;
Albatross glide, with a whisper of sound.

Seagulls circle, dogfish sleep,
Gannets dive and dolphins leap,
But black clouds return and lightning flashes
O'er storm-tossed seas, as thunder crashes.

Once more a stealthy cloud abducts infant water,
The sea's own offspring: a son ... a daughter;
The thief sets off at a wind blown pace,
The anguished mother unable to chase.

The criminal finds refuge in a partisan crowd,
A formless body in a vaporous shroud;
The cloud has no guilt, shows no remorse,
But heads inland on a predestined course.

A hill stands guard, like a customs post;
It stabs the guilty, but allows past the host;
The rogue cloud is ruptured, severed seam and pleat,
Releasing its captives and accepting defeat.

Raindrops descend, puddles form,
A stream engulfed, a river is born,
A course is set, the sea to reach,
Meandering ponderously to a far off beach ...

Oh robin you so symbolize,
The spirit of Christmas cheer,
The chirpy way you bob about
At this festive time of year.

A Merry Christmas we exchange,
Our eyes through holly meeting,
Worth more to me than worldly-goods,
That warm unspoken greeting.

Don’t see only our disabilit-ease,
Don’t deny us basic facilit-ease,
Don’t ignore our many abilit-ease,
Don’t compound our varied difficult-ease,
Deal head-on with the harsh realit-ease.

You never know what life has in store,
You may fall one day and rise no more,
You may join our ranks, afraid, unsure,
You may write words to plead; implore.

We are not an alien race,
We have a voice, we have a face,
We have our part to play; a place.

Let us join life’s lively dance,
Let us have an equal chance.

Pl-ease.

What a great reptile,
A Royal Python - no less,
A serpent so dapper;
Never seen in a mess,
Non-poisonous, deaf, mute;
Except for its hiss,
It likes nothing more
Than to hug and to kiss!

Though it has no arms,
Harmless it is not,
Make no mis-snake a
Mean streak it has got,
Outside of its coils
The view is just fine,
But if invited inside
You'd be wise to decline!

Don't be enticed in
By its hypnotic stare,
For when those coils tense,
They act like a snare,
For those patterned coils;
Look brill' from without,
But lose their appeal
When wrapped
Around your snout!

When the wisest man in the world said
"It would be a tragic shame if ever
The Great Forest were to be reduced
To a small clump of trees."
Everyone, without exception, answered
"It certainly would."

So when The Great Forest
Was eventually reduced
To a small clump of trees,
That is what they decided to call it ...
It Certainly Wood.

Ann Cestor lives alone,
No relatives has she,
So it seems
Iron-ic-ally,
That she is a root …
Without a tree!

My name is Chris,
Her name is Alice,
We’re cocooned in
A plantastic palace,
While balanced on
The woodlands eaves,
We banquet on
What others leaves,

We’re pillers of
Socie-eat-he
We pay our debts
And dine for free,
But our sights are set
Up in the sky,
For we’ve been promised
One day we’ll fly!

Meadow quiet,
Meadow sweet,
Meadow flowers
At my feet.

Let me play,
Let me explore,
Let me stay
Forevermore.

If people aren’t listened to
And will never be,
That would spell the end
Of our Democracy …

Let me sail away forever,
Let me cast off from the shore,
Let the swirling mists engulf me,
Till reality rules no more,
Let me sail the mighty oceans,
Let me pass by cliffs anew,
Let me navigate a passage
Through the rolling veil of blue,
Let my anchor never hold me,
Let my sails always billow out,
Let me sail away forever, and
May I never turn about.

Gleaming white meringue,
What made me buy it?
It's not part of my diet,
I'm inclined to bite it,
But I'm trying to fight it!

My conscience's view of it:-
Sugary,
Sticky,
Synthetic,
Sickly.

My stomach's view of it:-
Scrumptious,
Salivatating,
Seductive,
Sensepulsing.

Actuall­y:-
It's Inanimate,
It's Inconsequential,
It's Inanity
Is Innate.

In ...
Ate ...
Too ...
Late ...

People living in cardboard boxes ...
What are they doing there,
Are they there out of choice,
Or there in despair?

Are they there through their own fault,
Or is the blame society's at large,
Should you give them some free assistance,
Or have police put them on a charge?

Unlike the good samaritan,
You choose to walk on the other side,
Quite happy to debate lofty moral issues,
Until you meet reality, stumble and collide.

Cardboard City's inhabitants,
Are surely past redemption,
Would you really make that statement,
If in there, lived your son?

Shouldn't they help themselves more?
Perhaps they've already been trying,
All I know is they are fellow human beings,
And in the winter ... they are dying.

There's a fence all around me,
It keeps people away,
It gives me space of my own,
It keeps others at bay,
I constructed it myself,
It's the price I must pay.

It goes up for a mile,
While still touching the ground,
People have searched for a way in,
But one has never been found,
It's an impenetrable barrier,
That no sledge hammer can pound.

Does it make me feel claustrophobic,
Or does it make me feel secure,
Once I knew all the answers,
But now I'm not so sure,
Shall I make a hole in my fence,
Shall I fill it with a door?

Here I am stuck
In a defensive retreat,
I once so craved victories,
But I feared more a defeat,
Should I tunnel under my fence,
Should I dig really deep?

Should I stay here in my cocoon,
Or should I go out and explore,
Should I try again to embrace life,
Even though I failed once before,
Shall I cut an hole in my fence,
Need I bother fill it with a door?

My fence was to keep others out,
But it is both friend and foe,
For it also keeps me in,
When all I want is to go,
Shall I place explosives around it
And wait for it to blow?

All right you win, I'm coming out,
Waving a white flag up high,
I hope I fare better this time,
'Cos I'm reaching for the sky,
I'm taking off my lead boots,
This time ... please help me to fly!

People call me ugly,
And other hurtful names,
I'm often ostri-sized,
My feathers used for games.

They say the Ugly-Duckling
Grew up to be a swan,
And though I'm still but very young,
They ask me What went wrong?
I'm left here on my own-some;
And feel so sad and blue,
Well, you would feel the same
If you were an ... emu.