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.
​