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TABLETS OF STONE
by
Ken Edgar

Moses awoke feeling troubled, he had to get something across,
He doubted if folks would believe him, 'cause Moses weren't really the boss.
He'd made some mistakes in his life time, an' wasn't too sure it were him,
Who were best one to speak his people, there was some who thought him quite dim.

You see Moses had got into trouble, last week the Faroe he beat,
At crib, an' darts an' back-gammon, an' t'Faroe had turned up the heat.
He'd doubled the rent on the camels, an' tripled the bus fare to town,
He'd put VAT on new tent poles, an' had Moses polish his crown.

Summat had got to be done sharp like, an' Moses taking a breath,
Approached all his people, cap in one hand, while t'other one hung on to Seth.
He said how he'd made a decision, to take all his people away,
He warned 'em an' said, "This is different, it's not like Blackpool fur t'day.

They'll not be no time for sand-castles, an' don't bring toffees or pop,
This 'ere is a serious outing, an' I doubt there'll be time for a stop.
The place that I thought we would 'ead for," he said with a face all salome,
"Is a place you'll never have 'eard off, anew spot by t'sea we'll call 'ome."

Well, most folks thought that was crazy, they'd already got their selves set,
They'd been where they were for many a year, an' the Faroe weren't really a threat.
There was grumblin's about the idea, from pensioners who made some good points,
Like who's going to arrange for some transport, 'cos old fold can't walk on old joints.

But Moses had done some deep thinking, an' said as last Saturday night,
He'd been sound asleep and quite sober, when he'd woke to a wonderful sight.
He said a picture was laid out afore him, showing such wonderful scenes,
A land full of honey an' Marmite, mint humbugs, bananas and beans.

This didn't go down well wi' some folks, some of 'em told as they'd 'ad,
Gone to Old Moses' last birthday, an' been given cold fish that were bad.
An' others told tales of bad judgement, telling as not long ago,
That Moses 'ad organised pancakes but didn't know how to make t'dough.

His planning 'ad never been perfect but he knew in his heart how this would,
Be one of those things they'd put in a book, like when Noah 'ad warned about t'flood.
He kept up the pressure twice daily, 'till folks were beginning to see,
As 'appen 'Old Whiskers' could do it, an' he could make a nice pot o' tea.

So after debating an' thinking, an' hours spent chewing the fat,
They decided to give him one final chance, an' for a while he could wear t'leaders hat.
By now it were well past their bed time, an' some folks had missed out on their teas,
So Moses put his 'and in his pocket, an' all round it were fish, chips an' peas.

Now the decision were final, they dug out their best Sunday rags,
But no-body had thought about shop times, an no-body had any bags.
"Don't panic", said Moses quite loudly, an' people looked up to him then,
"I've got an arrangement with Burton's, tonight they'll stay open 'till ten".

An' so everybody was ready, there wasn't all that much to pack,
A few basins, an' jugs, an' kettles and mugs, all stashed on the camels' roof rack.
They set off across the dark sand dunes, it were black as a coal-miners neck,
When he asked his wife to carry his bag, she gave a look that said 'Would she heck'.

There were just one doubt that were nagging, it lay heavy on Moses' mind,
He knew once a week the Faroe came round, an' wondered what he would find.
It didn't take long as Moses summised, afore t'Faroe were packing his bowl,
Dreaming of goodies like Hot-pot and roast, Yorkshire pudding and Toad-in-the 'ole.

It were just the next day that the Faroe set off, all posh in a new 'at an' coat,
It were that time o'week to visit his group, To eat bowls of Scouse an' to gloat.
He arrived bang on tea-time, a regular thing, As it was 'is want so to do,
But but on seeing the desert deserted, thought, 'eck, I've missed out on mi stew.

His Captain of horses, Ramoosis, on see'n' the Faroe's despair,
Instructed the troops to pick up their scoops, and go search for clues everywhere.
One chap moved pretty quickly, and in almost no time at all,
Found just what he had looked for, camel dung, still steaming an'all.

"Are you sure that belongs to Moses?" he asked his Captain of horse,
"Well it doesn't look like one of ours but I can't be certain of course."
"Well sort it out pretty sharp like, I'm not going to sit here all day,"
So with wobberly knees, the Captain of horse, got down on one knee as to pray.

He lifted a portion with eyes shut, And beginning to feel rather sick,
Smothered the whole thing with HP, and gave it a tentative lick.
"I'm sure that this is one of Moses", said Ramoosis with quivering chin,
It might look a mess, but it's really quite fresh," and for later put some in his tin.

"Well done" said the Faroe, holding his nose, "would you like some paper?" where-on,
The Captain replied, feeling warmer inside, "Nay, Sire, the camel's long gone".
"To horse" cried the Faroe, " Let's leave this place and track down Moses and Co,
A florin I give, if they are captive, By Christmas, (it's a joke, Ho! Ho! Ho!")

 
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