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Tablets of Stone (part 3)
By Ken Edgar
Summat had got to be done sharp like, an’ Moses his cap in his hand,
Stood on a dune, tapped his mug with a spoon ‘till his people were all gathered round,
He said how there’d been a decision, to take all his people away,
“We need to get cracking there’s boxes for packing, it’s not like Blackpool fer t’day”.

“The part of the world we will head for,” He said with a face all salome,
"Is a place you'll never have 'eard off, a new spot by t'sea we'll call home,
They'll not be no time for sand-castles, and don't bring biscuits or pop,
This 'ere is a serious outing, an' I doubt there'll be time for a stop”.

There was grumblin's about the idea, and pensioners made some good points,
Like who's going to arrange for some transport, 'cos old folk can't walk on old joints,
Mostly folks thought it were crazy, all that they needed was here,
They’d got grub to eat and had shoes on their feet, and had been here for many a year.

But Moses faced up to these problems, an' said as how just last night,
He'd been sound asleep and quite sober, when he'd woke to a wonderful sight,
A picture 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, an some of 'em told as they had,
Gone to Moses' last birthday, an' been given cold fish that were bad,
An' others told tales of bad judgement, telling as not long ago,
Old 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 Noah in’t great Skipton 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,
But by now it were well past their bed times, an' some had missed out on their teas,
So Moses put his 'and in his pocket, an' all round it were fish, chips an' peas.
All the next day it were hectic as folks searched out their best rags,
But no-body had thought about shop times, an’ there simply weren’t enough 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".
So by evening everyones ready, their belongings they’d managed to pack,
Basins, an' jugs, an' kettles and mugs, all stashed on their camels' roof rack,
They set off across the dark sand dunes, it were black as a coal-miners neck,
Left at Lane Ends and over the bridge and back for a trip round the rec.
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 at 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.
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