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St Andrew's Church, Taunton

Henry's Goat's Blog Part 8

11 February 2007

We travel again towards Basingstoke town

To see the racoon and the clown with a frown;

But first I have something important to say

Concerning the Stones that we pass on the way.

They call them a Henge. They’re a fine sight to see,

While passing them by on the A303.

The bluestones were dragged from Preseli, in Wales.

And how did they drag them? I’ve heard some fine tales,

But now I can tell you the truth of the matter;

For this, I assure you, is no idle chatter.

So, how did the stones get to Salisbury Plain?

It was hundreds of goats. It was goats took the strain.

The Welsh Mountain Goat is as strong as an ox,

Well able to manage the heaviest blocks.

The secret of dragging, as any goat knows,

Is ‘Wait for the winter; then wait till it snows.’

Put runners beneath, and then hitch up your team;

Get ready! You’re off! And it glides like a dream.

My ancestors did it, so now you know why

I so like to look at the stones, going by.

I hope they don’t bury the road underground,

Depriving us all of the view we have found.

A bypass to north or to south, if you must,

For drivers determined to travel so fast,

But please leave a lane where the good 303

Gives views of the Stones for a dawdler like me.

We’ll wave at the Henge as we’re motoring past;

We’ll wave at the Henge, and we won’t drive too fast.

We’ll wave as we drive towards Basingstoke town

To talk of the Henge and its Stones with the clown. 

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