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Cornish Poem: Cornwall Explored -Cornish Poetry

Location  Cornwall, UK


Cornish Poet Clive Blake author on
LINK: Clive Blake: Books, Biography, Blog, Audiobooks, Kindle

If you like Clive's poetry:
100 of Clive Blake’s best-loved poems can be found in his latest Book/eBook
Clive’s Uni-Verse – A Cornishman’s take on life’:

A short introductory video to Clive Blake’s latest book ‘Clive’ Uni-Verse – A Cornishman’s take on life’.

Clive's Uni-Verse – A Cornishman's take on life

          An A to Z
          100 Poem
          Galactic Tour


Product details:

Title:     Clive’s Uni-Verse – A Cornishman’s take on life
Format:     Paperback and eBook
Pages:     136 pages
Dimensions:     140 x 205mm
Publication date:      27 Jan 2022
Publisher:     Olympia Publishers
Publication City/Country:     London, United Kingdom
ISBN10:    1800743343
ISBN13:     9781800743342


Publisher’s Synopsis:

Reading Clive Blake’s latest anthology is a life-affirming experience; light-hearted and comical, introspective and challenging. In this rhythmic exploration of both the mundane and the cosmic aspects of existence, no stone is left unturned: the promise of childhood, the uncertainties of youth and ageing, environmental apocalypse, ‘disabilit-ease’, historic whodunnits, love, death and escapee milk bottles, to name a few.

Clive Blake’s creativity and passion stems from his solid Cornish roots, captured in his reflections on the simple grandeur of the Cornish landscape. Perhaps it is this love of his native surroundings which lends his writing a rare sense of humility and groundedness. Although some of these poems are imbued with a quiet nostalgia, there is also an overwhelming sense of awe at life, at what it has to offer if one is brave enough to look within. And, of course, the poems come with a caveat: ‘no thoughts have been harmed during the making of this book’!


About the Author:

Clive Blake has always lived and worked in Cornwall just as his forefathers before him. He is intensely proud of his Cornish and Celtic roots which has resulted in him becoming widely known as ‘Cornish Poet Clive Blake’.

He spent much of his life on the family farm at St Wenn, in the heart of Cornwall, and has lived at Wadebridge, St Teath and is currently living in Newquay. Early education was at St Wenn and later at Bodmin and St Austell.

His latest Book/eBook ‘Clive’s Uni-Verse – A Cornishman’s take on life’ was published by Olympia Publishers in January 2022. The book is described as ‘An A to Z, 100 Poem, Galactic Tour’. As well as being a published poet he regularly performs his poetry under the banner of ‘Clive Live’.

Clive's poetry has topped many Google Searches, over many years, against many millions of competing poems. This includes searches such as 'Cornish Poem', 'Eco Poem', 'Disability Poem', 'Wedding Poem', 'Surfing Poem', 'Charlotte Dymond Poem', 'Cornish Funeral Poem', 'Penguin Poem' and 'Zebra Poem'. This achievement reflects the diverse nature of his poetry and subject matter. His poetry ranges from humorous through to thought provoking and reflective.


Available from all main bookshops and  booksellers, including:

Book Depository:
LINK: Clive's Uni-Verse - : Clive Blake : 9781800743342 (

Olympia Publishers:
Clive's Uni-Verse - A Cornishman's take on life by Clive Blake – Olympia Publishers Kindle eBook:
LINK: Clive Blake: Books, Biography, Blogs, Audiobooks, Kindle





by Clive Blake


Coastline, rocky, rugged, proud,
Crumbling cliffs in ozone shroud,
Sun-kissed drifts of desert sand,
Golden frame of a sea cradled land.

Fishing village, atmospheric hub,
Brass band playing, outside quaint old pub,
Boats, all sizes, rest near harbour wall,
Wading birds sift through tide-filled pool.

Foliage explosion of a Cornish hedge,
Country lanes snake, and young birds fledge,
Ruminants, punctuating, quilted hill,
Buzzards soar and wise hares are still.

Tin mine engine house, towering stack,
Roof caved in, gorse and bracken’s back,
White clay peak, geometrical and sleek,
Earth’s riches gouged, canyon deep.

Moor-land, open, untamed, granite-strewn,
Wild ponies dance to a skylark’s tune,
Tor and beacon, barrow and mound,
You’re in God’s own country, when you walk this ground.


Lichen laden, granite cross,
Reminder of a celtic culture’s loss,
An icon to placate a harsh deity,
A religious symbol, an outward plea.

Laden cross, granite lichen,
Not a mere whim, but a deliberate decision,
Ley-line power, here to focus,
Awaiting another mid-summer solstice.

Granite cross, lichen laden,
Sculptured for a dark-haired maiden,
Elaborate and ultimate statement of love,
A prayer for a union to be blessed from above.

Cross, lichen laden, granite
Manufactured on a far off planet,
Crafted and left to become immortal,
Marker of a time traveller’s portal.


Tick-tock and then chime;
Our life-clock beats
Our precious time out,
As it slowly depletes.

No-one can know when
Their own 'clock' will stop,
Will it end on a tick ...
Or will it end on a tock?

Each hour on the dot
Our clocks clearly chime,
To remind us all
Of our passing time.

Use your time wisely,
For ye know not when,
As engraved on the sun-dial;
On the church at St Wenn.

AKA ‘Dymond – A Girl’s Worst End’

In early eighteen-forty-four,
In Cornwall’s heart; on Bodmin Moor,
Charlotte Dymond, a young farm maid,
Had her throat slit with a steel blade,

She crossed fast streams and deadly bogs,
Found her way through mists and fogs,
But couldn’t stop that fatal blow,
That stole her life and laid her low,

She walked to meet someone that day,
Just who that was ... no one would say,
Found days later beside a track,
Laid on a cart; her shroud a sack,

The surgeon, Thomas Good, was fetched,
Had in his mind, her white face etched,
Charlotte untouched by fox or crow,
Had she been moved ... he did not know,

No evidence was ever found,
But her young boyfriend had gone to ground,
Fingers so quick to point his way,
Matthew Weeks panicked; ran away,

The hapless cripple, was soon caught,
No other culprit was ever sought,
The judge was just a rubber-stamp,
Bodmin Gaol was dark and damp,

The scaffold built, the crowds arrived,
Matthew swore he had not lied,
The floor gave way, the rope drew tight,
Was justice done ... the verdict right?

[Fowey is pronounced Foy; as in boy]

There was an old wreck-marker from Fowey,
Who had been at sea since he was a buoy,
But when his mooring wore through,
He went where the wind blew,
Ending his days on the beach - as a toy.


This flower cut,
Whilst in full bloom,
Now rests in peace,
Within this tomb.


I watched
A Cornish chough,
Flying so Cornish high,
Over Cornish cliffs,
In a Cornish sky,
All Cornish observations,
Made by my Cornish eye.

I watched
The Cornish sun,
Masked by a Cornish cloud,
I thought my Cornish thoughts,
My Cornish thoughts were loud,
I viewed the Cornish landscape,
And I felt so Cornish proud.

I watched
The Cornish waves,
Roll into the Cornish bay,
I saw the Cornish sunset,
At the end of another Cornish day,
For I am forever Cornish,
And forever Cornish I will stay ...


Cornwall is almost an island,
Thanks to the river Tamar and the sea,
Its indigenous inhabitants are us Cornish and
We Cornish are a nation - and will always be.

Kernow (Cornwall)
Boasts its own:
     Parliament and laws home grown,
     Flag, anthem and crest with fifteen bezants,
     Cornish Pasty and Oggy Oggy chants,
     Patron Saint and noble Kings,
     National bird with its black chough wings,
     Unifying tagline of ‘One And All’,
     Cornish wrestling and silver hurling ball,
     Ethnic Minority status, Unique DNA,
     Cornish language still spoken today,
     Nationhood recognised worldwide,
Facts are facts and the facts can’t hide.

We embrace our British neighbours
And we respect the Queen,
But we Cornish are a Nation
And we have always been.

Westminster chooses to ignore this fact,
Let it relent and admit its shame,
For whilst the truth beats in Cornish hearts,
A nation – we shall remain …


The Cornish shore …
Where golden sand lies next
To dappled grey granite rock,
Where the sea breeze sweeps
And the mussels flock,
Where the rock pools gather
And the small crabs patrol,
Where the white foam curls
And the breakers roll,
Where the sea birds call
And the salt spray stings,
Where the seaweed sunbathes
And the limpet clings,
Where a stream’s course meanders,
And reflects the azure sky,
Where a starfish gazes skywards
And white clouds go scudding by.

By all means take treasured memories,
But please take nothing more,
And leave nothing but your footprints
On this sacred Cornish shore …


I want to walk in my golden years,
On the Cornish beaches’ warm gold sands,
Where my footsteps are unhurried,
And my route is seldom planned.

I want to sit on the wooden benches,
Overlooking those dark blue bays,
I want to breath in this fresh salt air,
Until the ending of my days.

I don’t want to become immortal;
Living for forever and a day,
I just want to savour life in this world,
No matter how long or short my stay.

I don’t want my life extended for the sake of it,
With no reason or rhyme,
I just want to live in the here and the now,
And enjoy this - my quality time.


She watched
A Cornish chough,
Flying so Cornish high,
Over Cornish cliffs,
In a Cornish sky,
All Cornish observations,
Made by her Cornish eye.

She watched
The Cornish sun,
Masked by a Cornish cloud,
She thought her Cornish thoughts,
Her Cornish thoughts were loud,
She viewed the Cornish landscape,
And she felt so Cornish proud.

She watched
The Cornish waves,
Roll into the Cornish bay,
She saw the Cornish sunset,
At the end of another Cornish day,
For she was forever Cornish,
And forever Cornish she will stay ...


He watched
A Cornish chough,
Flying so Cornish high,
Over Cornish cliffs,
In a Cornish sky,
All Cornish observations,
Made by his Cornish eye.

He watched
The Cornish sun,
Masked by a Cornish cloud,
He thought his Cornish thoughts,
His Cornish thoughts were loud,
He viewed the Cornish landscape,
And he felt so Cornish proud.

He watched
The Cornish waves,
Roll into the Cornish bay,
He saw the Cornish sunset,
At the end of another Cornish day,
For he was forever Cornish,
And forever Cornish he will stay ...


Now, Cornish tradesmen do a proper job,
But they might not do it straight away,
For if they say they’ll do it ‘dreckly’,
There might be a slight delay …!

Please Note:
Although the .... English ‘directly’,
And the …........ Cornish ‘dreckly’,
sound very similar, they are poles
apart in terms of meaning!!


Cornwall is my homeland
And it will always be,
A large part of it surrounded,
Surrounded by the sea.

Cornwall is my homeland,
It’s where my roots are deep,
And this connection with my forbears,
I feel a strong desire to keep.

Cornwall is my homeland,
Of me it is a part,
For it resides within my soul
And is branded in my heart.

Cornwall is my homeland,
It’s where I will always stay,
And when my days are over,
It’s where I will surely lay.


Charlotte died in eighteen–forty-four,
Murdered on Cornwall’s,
On Cornwall’s, Bodmin Moor,
Those seeing the ghost are very sure,
It’s poor Charlotte,
Poor Charlotte, who still walks the moor.

A monument erected is there to this day,
Marking the spot,
The spot, where she did last lay.
Those seeing the ghost are very sure,
It’s poor Charlotte,
Poor Charlotte, who still walks the moor.

Was it her murderer the police did arrest?
But if so, why can’t her spirit,
Her spirit, now find its rest?
For those seeing the ghost are very sure,
It’s poor Charlotte,
Poor Charlotte, who still walks the moor ...


I think of my Cornish identity,
As on a cliff-top bench I sit,
And realise that Cornwall is a part of me
And I am a part of it,
I won’t be taken out of Cornwall
And you can’t take Cornwall out of me,
And though I gaze at far off horizons,
I know Cornwall is where I will stay
And is where I am meant to be.

Cornish Poet Clive Blake

You can contact me via my website:

Cornish Poetry Collection:
Poems by Clive Blake
      01  Cornwall Explored
      02  Lichen Laden Granite Cross
      03  Ye Know Not When
      04  Charlotte Dymond
      05  Old Wreck Marker From Fowey
      06  An Epitaph For Charlotte Dymond
      07  Cornish Eye
      08  We Cornish Are A Nation
      09  Cornish Shore
      10  Quality Time
     11  Her Cornish Eye
      12  His Cornish Eye
      13  Cornish Tradesmen
      14  Cornwall Is My Homeland
      15  The Ghost Of Charlotte Dymond
      16  My Cornish Identity

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love-shakspeare's avatar
You sound so expressive. I love your style. Its a grabbing piece. Makes me want to visit :)