“Ode to this forums Trolls

Oh To replace the report and arrow buttons
You so abuse
With a troll button
Which removes your Cornish Genocide from existence
And allows the real Cornish to enjoy these forums
Trust me I would press the button with glee
Over and over
The reactions which feed your existence would be washed out forever
And you would be back out in the cold
Alone, ashamed and exposed as the Cornish Genocide troll you are
Bye bye Cornish Genocide troll
The anti everything Cornish troll
Who disgusts me with every comment you make”

“To subjectively accuse, is to personally abuse
A person whose views you disagree with
Without understanding, or knowledge,
from life's finest college
Employs not wisdom but myth”

“AS God sits up above in his heaven and looks down at the world he has made
He sees mountains and forests and valleys, and slumbering leafy glades,
but the sight that must give Him most pleasure as a job that was really well done
is this lovely old town here in Cornwall, that He blessed with perpetual sun.
But somethings gone wrong with the weather, it's cold wet and windy today
should I change my sanctification from Ives to the one called Tropez
No we'll come back down here again next year as we have each year since '63
because nowhere beneath all of God's heaven is as marvellous as St. Ives on Sea.

A poem on a postcard sent back to colleagues at work in praise of St. Ives.

and another-

Is there a place in all this land that compares with St. Ives and it's golden sands
and sparkling sea of azure blue that captivates me and would welcome you to spend just two weeks every year sitting in the sun by Smeatons Pier.
There's nowhere as close to ecstacy than here at Sunny St. Ives on Sea.

and another

We are having a marvellous time here at sunny St. Ives on sea, each day we sit upon the beach from breakfast until tea, the showered and fed in the evening we stroll along the quay and four pints of ale at the old Sloop Inn rounds of each perfect day.

Colin of Blaby, a regular visitor for 49 years.”

“Ode to this forums Trolls

Very good, my turn

Once upon a Cornish forum
While I read exhausted and restless
I stumbled upon tales of forgotten lore
Ancient kings, lands and stolen rights
A nasty odour of vile malevolence did appear
With abuse, bigotry and unawareness
Claiming to represent all Cornish
A 15 year old troll
With breast milk still moist around its lips”

“The Cornish have nurtured their County,
And graciously shared its bounty,
To this way of life we owe?
The Cornish, who made it so.

Granite cottages and animated hedges,
Harboured glorious veg and sedges,
Farmer, gardener, man and wife,
Nurtured the soil that gave them life.

Fishermen angled for local need,
Trawlers came to fill the greed,
Trawls and rakes the bay did rape,
As barren as clay mining landscape

Refugees came to escape the iniquity,
Dog eat dog rat race inner city,
'Sophistication' did not display
'Country folk who'd lost their way.

''Gag that cockerel!'' ''Silence that church bell'',
''Stop that noise'', ''What's that horrible smell?''
''What's the use of an idle green space?''
''Dig it up'', ''Put a car park in its place''.

Silent pretty villages all cherrypicked,
Unlimited finances have got us licked,
Green wellies, Chelsea tractor and sooo refined,
To change us into what you left behind.

Green wellies is a player in the smoke,
Snout in the trough when it aint full of coke,
Bijou cottages in Helford and Looe,
Says ''Out the way peasant! You're spoiling the view''

But my favourite beach is now a pitch,
Trashed and annexed for the super rich,
Still wonder why I've got the hump,
When they turn my county into a dump?

When I walk into my hometown,
I suss out what is going down,
Shoppers avoiding drunkies, they lament,
An unwilling role in open prison experiment.

Church soon no more to avoid offending gaze,
I've now shut up to comply with PC ways,
Little old lady stands against imported drug crime,
PC says ''They've got rights! Now You'll do time!''

Mps and 'crats think it's funny,
Up our taxes and misuse our money,
70,000 houses for locals we're told,
More official hands greased with gold.

County and and culture for our children lost in deed.
Blown in the generation of unbridled greed.”