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A Cornish Poem!

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    A Cornish Poem!

    I recently posted a thread regarding 'would you do this at home' and went on to say that while on the Aurora,Ii entered the passengers talent competition I read a Cornish poem, and a member asked me for a copy which I duly sent, I thought some posters might like to read it and also post poems of their counties or towns.

    I'm some glad!

    [A love song for Cornwall]

    I'm some glad I was born here in Cornwall
    where the pasties are 'out of this world'
    Where the rich saffron cake
    That the Cornish girls make
    Keeps the hair on your chest tightly curled

    Oh,I'm some glad I'm living in Cornwall
    Where the sea's never too far a way
    Where the Cornish suntan
    Can take years off a man
    Oh, me ansomes, tis true what I say!

    Yes I'm some glad I stayed here in Cornwall,
    Cause tis here some peace still is founn
    Where the wise'Cousin Jack'
    Gives a grin and sits back
    To watch the rest of the world rushing round!

    See, I takes pride in the fact I've lived here in Cornwall
    For us Cornish are proud so and so's
    Any service or task
    We'll perform if you ask But tell us, n'we don't want to know!

    Oh, yes I'm some glad I've lived here in Cornwall
    And tis here that my days must be done
    then buried I'll be
    Within sound of the sea
    In some spot that's been warmed by the sun!

    Then the seagulls do wheel and turn
    In the blue Cornish skies up above
    My spirit will soar
    With the gulls round the shore
    Of my Cornwall
    This Cornwall-I love!
    Last edited by cornish girl, falmouth; 10th August 2012, 09:49 AM.

    Only the hair on your chest tightly curled?


      Thanks CG. Much appreciated by a fellow CG!


        Here's a prayer, although not Cornish , it's universal! how many recognise themselves in this prayer? CG

        Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will some day be very old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.

        Release me from craving to straighten out everybody's affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful but not bossy.
        With my vast store of wisdom it seems a pity to not use it all, but Thou knowest Lord that I want a few friends at the end.

        Keep my mind from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on aches and pains. Thay are increasing and the love of rehearsing them is getting sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of other's pains, but help me to endure them with patience.

        I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

        Keep me reasonably sweet. I do not want to be a saint-some of them are so hard to live with- but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places and talents in unexpected people. And give me Lord the grace to tell them so.


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