A tongue-firmly-in-cheek poem based on the book The Specialist by Charles Sale. Charles’s Lem Putt, illustrated by William Kermode Here, Tony Mansell replaces Charles Sale’s Lem Putt with Benjamin Albert Tregaskes…a Cornish entrepreneur. Neither man existed with those names but those who created these necessaries were real and their creations were in use…Continue Reading “The Specialist”
While clearing a ditch in that magical upland of West Penwith, just below the great hill-fort of Chûn, a farmer gradually revealed a relic from the distant past – a well with lintels of moorstone. Its age is uncertain, its magic undeniable From sunlit morn of dusty day Down steps worn smooth By countless…Continue Reading “Bosullow Well, a poem by David Oates”
Another poem from the pen and voice of one of Cornwall’s foremost poets The Journey – (Truro – Redruth) (For audio, click on title) The Number Forty bus from Truro To Redruth (via St Day) grinds a gear, Pulls into traffic and away – a jackdaw Departs the railway station’s ridge, Making its…Continue Reading “The Journey by Bert Biscoe”
Golitha Falls An autumn walk to cherish The colours inspire awe The River Fowey is flowing Like you’ve never seen before Draynes Wood is the beginning As the paths wind through the trees Where roots form stepping stones And moss and lichen frame the leaves You hear the rapids singing As you skirt the…Continue Reading “Golitha Falls by Ruth Tremayne Harry”
Another tongue-in-cheek poem from the pen and voice of one of Cornwall’s foremost poets (Photo Steve Tanner) Vyager gans Geryow (Bert Biscoe) lives in Truro. He is a poet and songwriter whose work draws on his interest in history, politics, social justice and language. He represents the people of Moresk…Continue Reading “Pendragon – Owse up Treliske by Bert Biscoe”
When the mines closed, men left Cornwall in their thousands, going out literally into the unknown. Many left from Redruth Station and their heartache is still there. Clock creeps to midnight Soft sleep its gentle hostage takes Throughout the tired town. But there, where arc of bridge Throws high its granite span The day…Continue Reading “Redruth Railway Station at Night – a poem by David Oates”