Sunday, 10 July 2011


Poem 55 of 230:  TIN-MINERS’ LUNCH

Visiting relatives in Cornwall,
    I saw the mines tin-miners mined,
The type of lunch they liked to eat,
    And heard these tales about it all:

(spoken chorus)
Tin-miners’ wives, with pasties ready,
Would cry “oggy, oggy, oggy”;
Then, in response, hungry miners
Would call back up with “oi, oi, oi”s.

Plus the real Cornish pasty’s strong-crust
    Keeps the baked food inside it warm,
And, when it is properly done,
    A fall down the mine won’t make it bust.

And miners’ wives...

And, for health or as bad-luck-blockers,
    The, leftover, thick crimped crust-base -
Having had mining-mitts on it -
    Would, by some, be ditched to the “Knockers."

And miners’ wives...

(C) David Franks 2003

Over the border in Exeter, Devon; 8/9/2015

Chester Cathedral Green; 8/9/15