The countryside dazzles, a pageant of glistening white. The magical rime of last night’s hoar frost decks hedges and trees in Christmas tinsel. At my feet the fields lie frozen, a milky, plush-piled Persian carpet. The fog which brought the whiteness has conceded. Yielding to the same sun which will destroy what it now…Continue Reading “Morning Glory – a poem by Alan Murton”
Photo: Pixabay As a child, my dad would take me, on Saturday morning, with a couple of his friends, out fishing at Coverack in a beautiful clinker built boat called The Southern Star. Going there recently, many years on, I found her pulled up beyond high water, much changed from the boat I knew….Continue Reading “The Southern Star – a poem by David Oates”
Pause a while and share this seat High on the bluff in Malpas village, It’s where three Cornish rivers meet. When the sun reflects from the flowing tide Where else on earth would you want to be With like-minded friends at your side? In a silence so rich you could almost cry,…Continue Reading “Malpas – A Favourite Place (A Poem by Alan Murton)”
Penberth Cove It’s a hidden gem in Cornwall Right off the beaten track A small hamlet still survives there But its history takes you back Once a thriving pilchard industry Now a single fishing boat Finding mackerel, lobster, crab Keeps the fishing cove afloat A granite cobblestone slipway Is a feature somewhat rare At…Continue Reading “Penberth Cove – a poem by Ruth Tremayne Harry”
Mr Pezzak of Mousehole makes small talk in a chance meeting of Bards up t’Trurra! ‘Ah! ‘Tis a legal crime! Brazen theft!’ Old Pezzak grips my arm. ‘Council houses In a village silenced by profiteers Changing hands for half a million!’ ‘Places built by Granfer & Son To get more kids past the age of…Continue Reading “‘Twill all come round, Boy! Never Fear!’ – a poem by Bert Biscoe”
It often seems that in our modern days there is no magic, no mystery, no more contact with the forces of the earth. It is still there, though, for those who can tap into its power. These are the days These are the days when magic dies, Its mysteries no secrets hold No…Continue Reading “These are the days – A Poem by David Oates”