Guernsey Poets

Around a steaming cauldron On their haunches they perch Cackling, wizened faces smothered with woad, As into the bubbling mix they toss ...

If you find... That you might need me girl I'll come running to your cheating arms again Oblivious, to all the hurt you'd cause me...

Around the coast, grey watchtowers stand. Our island heritage, some say, while others fail to understand why they remain here to this d...

It’s all water under the bridge Just listen for a sigh As it washes and rushes by It’s all water under the bridge And clouds across the...

That bloody Mayor, he promised me three bags of silver, newly minted, and maybe willing girls, he hinted, if I would only guarantee to...