An Ode To Cornwall
My life is in those granite cliffs engrav'd
Historic tales that time has ne'er forgot
What picture painted in my life enslaved
By Kernow in its magic melting pot
Olde Castles loom above the rolling sea
And sacred hist'ry they have kept behind
A whispered wind tells tales of what they see
And draws a spectre from each troubled mind
And as the sun climbs up the moorland path
To warm the shadows left by Cornish night
The sea will crash the cliffs in white tipped wrath
To cleanse the darkest shadows with that light
A symphony of colour clears the air
As only Kernow can, this soul's ensnared
My life is in those granite cliffs engrav'd
Historic tales that time has ne'er forgot
What picture painted in my life enslaved
By Kernow in its magic melting pot
Olde Castles loom above the rolling sea
And sacred hist'ry they have kept behind
A whispered wind tells tales of what they see
And draws a spectre from each troubled mind
And as the sun climbs up the moorland path
To warm the shadows left by Cornish night
The sea will crash the cliffs in white tipped wrath
To cleanse the darkest shadows with that light
A symphony of colour clears the air
As only Kernow can, this soul's ensnared
© Paul Knox 2006