The Minister's Flitting

I took a stroll yin efternoon around the suburbs o' the toon
And wandering doon the Barn Brae I turned right, and made my way
Along the shore and just by chance I took the path up tae the manse.
In my mind I saw the Reverent Buddy relaxing snugly in his study
And I'd nae doot he'd welcome me and shout tae Jan to bring in tea
Then in oor chairs we'd settle back and spend an hour or two in crack.

I chapped the door and in I gaed; my hope o' tea began tae fade,
There was his wife, puir body, sittin' right in the middle o' the flittin'
Sure enough she welcomed me "It's you I'm very glad tae see
Come you wi' me richt up the stairs and help me carry doon these chairs"
Some wardrobes and a wheen o' beds and several hundred odds and ends.

We rolled up carpets, pulled up rugs, packed linen, crockery and jugs
We took the pictures aff the hooks and boxed at least a million books
At last we stopped to get a breath and give oor aching backs some ease
And then I got the time tae say "is the minister no' at home the day"?
And then with fingers to her lips, oot through the kitchen door she slips
And beckoning me tae follow o'er she rapped upon the study door
She tried the handle ----it was locked, but in letters three feet high were chalked
I MUST not be disturbed at all. Not even if the elders call!!

Gosh me, says I, the puir wee soul, he's maybe filling his dole
Or studying a set o' rules tae get a wee win on the pool
No, no, says she, just stop your chatter and I'll explain the wretched matter
For I'm afraid the awful strain will permanently affect his brain
Within the precincts o' that room he's studying a learned tomb
Wi' hair on end and sleeves rolled up, the tea grown stone cold in the cup
And muttering at an awful rate tae try and help him concentrate
He's never left that book for ages, his nose deep buried in it's pages
It's the finest volume ever written on an easy way tae have a flitting!

RMG April 2007