A tongue in cheek look at a religious conversion. |
‘E were born up in Blackburn, in t’side street - a smoke blackened terrace in t’middle, to the folk who lived round about ‘im, why God picked on 'im was a riddle As a young ‘un he’d brawled and ‘e’d argued, ‘e’d boozed and ‘e’d wenched most of week. on Saturday night, when ‘e really got tight, the police locked ‘im up for ‘is cheek. 'e married a fat girl called Gladys, as firm as the side of a log, and she stopped all ‘is boozing, ‘is fights and carousing, and bore ‘im three kids and a dog. The change when it came were quite sudden - ‘e were ‘avin’ ‘is Saturday bath. An angel appeared - sat down on the lav said ‘listen to this an’don’t laugh Now Ron was reet baffled and worried - ‘e’d arranged to meet lads down at pub, ‘Don’t worry old lad, they’ll not miss you’ said angel, giving 'is back a good scrub. ‘I’ve come to give you a crash course’ said the ‘passed over’ grocer from Crewe, ‘So listen with care, this knowledge is rare, and I’ll be asking some questions of you’. Fer hours it seemed ‘e talked as bath steamed – Ron listened and took in the lot, but when ‘e was through with this long interview, the water was still very 'ot. ‘So give them the message with love son, don’t leave ‘em without any hope, I’ll come back now and then and give you more gen' - and with that he ‘anded back soap. So Ron, ‘e took up the mantle (didn’t really ‘ave any choice,) ‘e polished up on ‘is biblical quotes and learned how to pro-ject ‘is voice. Ron’s mission began up in Blackburn, but ‘e moved far and wide over t’years, ‘e went North, ‘e went South, and even to Louth, but it usually ended in tears. It wasn’t that folk were real evil, -just deferred the good an’ were bad, They just couldn’t make the effort it takes to change their old ways- it were sad! Although God’s champ, 'e looked like a tramp, and folk did their best to avoid him, If they’d taken the trouble to look beyond stubble, the light in 'is eyes sang a hymn. E’d converted a few, tho’ most of ‘em dithered, e’d scattered the seed but most of that withered, still the fire burned fierce in Ron’s failing chest, and come rain or come snow, ‘e went on with the quest. Then came the day when ‘is body said ‘no, -can’t go any further, the candle’s too low’, 'e lay on the ground, 'is strength all but gone, 'is fever so high it melted the snow. As 'is spirit worked free, 'e looked up to see, a light shining bright in the cloud, 'is eyes became clear as a voice in 'is ear, said ‘come on up lad, you’ve done me reet proud’. ‘Don’t you fret me old cock, you’ve been a real rock and yer 'alo’s already a-glisten, I’ve been trying meself for two thousand years but the blighters just don’t want to listen. |