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A Passover Poem

November 24, 2016 23:06

I’ll tell you a tale - you may already know,
Of a biblical feat from a long time ago.

The characters are strong, the story snappy,
It may start sad – but hey, ends happy.

First we have Moses, of manly brawn,
Who at first turned up amid bulrush and thorn.

He thought he was Egyptian – but try as he might,
Just couldn’t help but feel he may be Semite.

He lived like a Prince – but soon enough fled.
And off to Mount Sinai he soon was led.

“Lead your people – offer your hand”
God said as he described the Promised land.

And so, again, back whence from where he came,
Moses sped with “freedom” in his heart to proclaim.

Then on, what happened requires time and focus,
To correctly recall flies, the boils, the locusts.

But at the end of it all, the Jews packed up their bags,
And fled armed with matzo in their carrier rags.

They travelled long, they travelled far
(What? You think they had a getaway car?)

And even-tually, not a moment too soon,
They found safe haven ‘neath a glistening moon.

Is-ra-el! They land they found came to be -
The land that brought us hummus and Ottolenghi.

So that is why, all these many years later,
You can’t pass on Passover – unless you’re a hater.

So say it loud and say it proud – and celebrate those Jews.
And please, don’t rhyme – I’m talking to you, Jewish News.

November 24, 2016 23:06

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