1924: MAWGAN PORTH: MY NEW POEM ABOUT CORNWALL...

1924: Mawgan Porth…

It was like a closing of the eyes

During late afternoon and succumbing,

Allowing the mind to fall,

Befuddled and helpless, numbing

Oneself into the imaginings of a dream,

Whereby a scene known in modernity

Might be stripped bare, becoming

Monochrome and thus a peek into the past

Which lures and entices with its distant thrall…

The sharp corner, the acute bend

Is merely a well worn lane, or track;

Recognisable cottages and telegraph poles

Disguise the footpath up the cliff to Bre Pen…

The coastal road would surely wend

Its well worn way o’er river bridge’s back,

Where huers might have scanned the sea for shoals

In the deep which cruelly hunted fishermen…

One vessel idles in the bay’s high tide,

One figure idles, a long gone hut beside;

One handcart idles in antiquity

And one’s dream’s idylls fade into reality…

Pete Ray

August 2018

An old postcard from 1924, posted on Twitter by @piskeypostcard...

A place I know so well and the images below show the same corner in modernity...