The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
The Turks said just take anything you please
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
It's one of many horrid happenings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
To break a rule Britannia's might might waive
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum