Hang the Thomas

The thorny cheat, tricky beast laid a
Falsely famous phantom feast for the
Guv’nors jumbled, ruthless ensemble
Striking fear in the peasants, make them tremble.

Shaking boots and legs aquiver
As the onlookers watch with a ghostly shiver
At the hangman’s noose as it looks too eager
To hug the throat of a man beleaguered.

All purple-scarlet with eyes a-poppin’
And lolling tongue that’s rasping at nothin’.
New widow seething, red rooster’s screaming.
(“No worries, Me Lud, absolution’s redeeming.”)