Sunken lanes adorned with wild garlic

Banks covered in bluebells

Drooping under the weight of their purple flowers

Crying out “we’re English”

Reminding us of those famous words

“Sink me the ship master Gunner,  split her in twain, fall into the hands of God not into the hands of Spain”

We’re in Cornwall here

Where the bluebells are quintessentially English

No Spanish here!