Simple Pleasures

Simple pleasures like a pasty in the hand,
While you sit and watch the fulmar swoop and glide.
With your children building castles in the sand,
See a fishing boat returning on the tide.


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Someday when I'm older, when I'm wise,
And maybe passing time will dim my eyes.
It's memories like these I'll call to hand,
The memories of a simple Cornish man.



To hear a lark sing high up on the moor.
The perfumed honeysuckle in the lane.
To stand and watch a mewing buzzard soar,
Just walking in the gentle summer rain.



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Simple pleasures like a little fall of snow,
That turns the barbed wire fences into lace.
Sitting talking in the flickering candle glow,
As the dancing shadows play across her face


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The dog that curls itself around your toes,
When that eastern wind blows underneath your door.
A frosty morning nipping at your nose,
As you walk across the winter Sennen Shore.

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