Divine Wild Jersey Haretail.
Poem By Anthony Fry
Beating loudly in your strong heart, we can hear that proudness.
Proudest thing I heard a Jersey woman say was, " I loved him."
Describing mysterious long Journeys, of ancient island warriors.
Men proud swagger about in posh clothes, rapiers at their sides.
Windsurfers glide on winds, over golden sand dunes in St Ouen.
Eager islanders, waiting retreating tides, vraic within their reach.
Gathering vraic seaweed, for this years jersey royal potato crop.
Making Jersey Black Butter, winning that worthiest of contests.
An occasion for a get-together of a family, with cider and apples.
Those perfect Jersey wonders, gorgeous forever for all to taste.
Jersey wonders cooked fresh as tide went out, no jam or sugar.
Those truly desired pleasures are attained making Jersey Cider.
Blowing on a sea breeze, treasure a view of divine wild haretail.
Eels hide in St Ouen pond, sweetest and biggest ones in Europe.
Battle of flowers festival, music, flower floats, and entertainers.