Morvah Fair

The poem was written to celebrate Lammas, which used to be celebrated in Morvah at its fair. I wanted to capture a Cornish sense of place - tin mines, moors, and folklore woven together.

Morvah Fair

It is time to ride to Morvah Fair:
Come at Lammas if you dare;
In days of old, the giant came:
Rich tin mines were to blame;
The giant heard of riches there,
And village folk cowed in fear;
Jack the Tinkard came this way
To fight the giant, him to slay;
A hammer striking Giant’s head,
Until the titan fell down dead;
All that’s left is just one bone,
It turned on sunrising to stone;
They say this is the Giant’s grave,
The folk that Jack had come to save;
But walk around the stone today,
Three times, or so the folk do say,
You’ll hear the ghostly giant roar,
Across that bleak and lonely moor;
Now drink to Jack’s health today,
A shilling ale is a small price to pay,
As bards sing of the Tinkard boldm
Of the exploits fabulous and old;
Jack the Giant Killer once lived here,
And took away the people’s fear;
At August harvest, sing and dance,
And Giant’s stone do cast a glance;
The ending of the time of fear,
And rejoicing at the Morvah Fair!