I am of Cornish blood,

it hangs in my veins like the apple

orchard that hugged the cliff

looking down on The Tamar,

rough water leading to two miles of joined land,

looking across to Plymouth

and the Hoe in which I kicked a football

and the early swimming lessons in the sea stormed

and tossed lido, perfect on summer’s days

with ice cream in hand

and the barnacles wading in with the march

of the sea.

I am of Cornish blood, it races through my veins,