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The Walrus and the Carpenter by James Archer

Drama based on the parable of the houses on the rock and sand from Matthew7:24-28.


The words are spoken by a narrator; three actors mime the parts of the Walrus, the Carpenter and the Architect.

Printable and editable Word version

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Were walking hand in hand;

The Carpenter admired the view

Of miles and miles of sand;

“If I could build a mansion here,

It would be very grand.”

No sooner had he had this thought,

Before he’d thought it through,

Than he decided it would be

A glorious thing to do,

And in the sand his foolish plan

To build a house he drew.

The Walrus was a wiser chap;

He went to ask a man,

An Architect, a man of brains,

To come and check the plan,

To see if it were sensible

To build a house on sand.

The Carpenter had lost no time;

He’d got his nails and wood,

And when the Architect arrived,

The house already stood,

Just waiting for the Carpenter

To move in when he would.

The Architect was horrified,

But all that he could say

Was, “Let us hope it still survives

After a rainy day,”

And manfully he tried to hide

His worry and dismay.

The Walrus and the Architect

Walked on a mile or so,

And rested on a rock that was

Conveniently low,

Wondering what would happen

When the wind began to blow.

The Architect said, “Build your house

Upon a solid rock;

Dig deep foundations underneath,

Build on them block by block.

Don’t copy from your foolish friend;

He’ll get a dreadful shock.”

The Walrus did as he was told,

Despite the toil and cost;

He dug six feet into the rock

To stop his house being lost.

The Carpenter just laughed at him,

And kept his fingers crossed.

At last the Walrus’ house was built,

A humble little place.

His puffed-up neighbour looked at it,

And snorted to his face,

“It’s dark and poky; next to mine

That house is a disgrace.”

The summer calm was soon behind,

The winds came on to blow;

The rain came pouring downwards

On the rock and sand below,

And in no time streams and rivers

Had begun to overflow.

The gale blows unabated,

And the rains the mansion lash;

The rivers flow right through it,

And the roof falls with a splash;

The timbers start to splinter,

And they tumble with a crash.

The Walrus was relaxed,

And stroked his long and ugly tooth;

He didn’t have to worry,

As he’d built a proper roof,

And listened to the Architect,

Whose wise words were the truth.

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