“You’re not Cornish”

(Childhood conversation with a Cornish friend)

Since I was six

I’ve walked these cliffs.

‘But you’re not Cornish’.

I have watched the rabbits scurry from their burrows.

I have seen the sun set upon the sea.

We have picked ripe blackberries,

You and me.

‘But you’re not Cornish’.

I have eaten soursops

And gathered May leaves frm the hedge,

Nibbled turnips stolen from the farmer’s field.

Been chased by cows

Across a gate,

Skipped round the Maypole

At the village fete,

Been scolded by my mom

For coming home too late.

I have jumped across the rocks

And felt the giant’s heart

Set in the path

And climbed up to the Mount

More times than I can count.

‘But you’re not Cornish’.

I have walked with you to school,

Put up with ‘big boys’ being cruel,

Swung my satchel round in rage.

Sat upon the bus to town,

Watched the boats trawl up and down.

‘But you’re not Cornish’.

I’ve ate my pasty on the wall,

Drawn the shield for ‘One and All’,

Fished with limpet and a pin,

Watched the tide go out and in.

In my pocket I have put

A rabbit’s foot for luck.

‘But you’re not Cornish’.

I lost my ‘marlies’ all to you,

Enjoyed the things we used to do.

I helped you dam the stream,

Raced our dogs across the green.

Do you remember when we

Left piskies petals for their lunch,

Picked purple violets in a bunch?

Saw the first primroses appear

The Spring of yet another year.

Rode daily on the Penzance bus

When I passed the eleven plus.

Even married a Cornish man-

He said,

‘You’re not Cornish,

Your parents came from BIRMINGHAM!’

Poem by Nyria