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Posts tagged ‘Cornish language’

St Enodoc Church

And now so free to feel the air
Behind the dunes back of the bay
In midst of links and hillocks green
And nestled at the foot of Brea

I sit and from my vantage point
I see and view the Camel’s mouth
With Stepper Point ahead of me
And Rock a little to the south

In stillness do I hear the sounds
Of gulls so high upon the wing
The lapping of the distant waves
And on a Sunday people sing

The rustle of the Cornish air
The drifting of the golden sand
The knocks of golf balls driving past
And silent hub-bub of the land

The memories I cherish dear
The essence of dear souls of old
The squeals of children by my font
And spirits ether to behold

And when the mist encircles me
From sea and land on cooler days
I feel the touch and recollect
Why to Him I will impart praise

St Enodoc Church

To find out more about this little church nestled in the Dunes of Daymer Bay, Trebetherick on the North Cornwall coast click here

The Cornish Piskies

Watch out! Watch out! Watch wear you tread
For down on Daymer Lane
A clan of Piskies stand in wait
As bidden by their Thane
To create havoc playfully
Deter you from your way
And whisk you off to Bodmin Moor
Or to the hilltop Brea

All dressed in colours of the earth
In lichen, grass and moss
Their cheerfulness and spritely mood
Will trick your mind and cross
Your path without a second thought
In fairy dust confused
To leave you, traveller, wandering
All lost and not bemused

And yet these souls of children lost
Wish each and everyone
No trouble nor no wanton harm
Just mischief and some fun
And some they’ll even help and aid
Their succour to impart
To the infirm and elderly
They show their loving heart

So be aware and be so wise
For Piskies small and bright
As Cornish fairies or brownies
Resembling the sprites
Dance in the waysides, midst the gorse
Down by the lapping shore
Intent on their shenanigans
Their high jinks and much more

 

Cornish Memories

The sea and the sky and the moors and the sun
The cliffs and the beaches; the walks that are done
The waves and the surf and the oodles of fun

The cream and the scones and the pasties and more
The mead and the cider; the glasses to pour
The fairings and fish and the food to adore

The sights and the sounds and the sail boats go by
The harbours and havens and markets to spy
The blue of the ocean inspired from on high

The love of the land and the land that I love
The County of piskies and seagulls above
Cornish memories of old bringing peace like a dove

This week we’re taking inspiration from the late Poet Laureate, Sir John Betjeman’s beloved Cornwall.

Cornish Memories