Saturday, September 24, 2011

The Ballad of Thomas Hall

Thomas Hall he was a wandering man
And his restless mind forbid him settle down
And in his brief and wanderlust life span
He became well known in many a town.

His father Dan had his own fishing boat
And with him Thomas fished the open sea
But fisher life young Thomas Hall did loathe
He yearned for wander and new sights to see.

Thomas was a fine man to behold
Of sturdy build and standing six foot two
With handsome face under hair of honey gold
And sparkling eyes so beautiful and blue.

Thomas had one older brother Dan
And two younger sisters Sheila and Marie
Dan like his father became a fisherman
And took a living from the salty sea.

The desire to roam in him was always strong
And even in his schooldays Thomas knew
That to the open highway he belong
And his lust for wander increased as he grew.

In his nineteenth year of life Tom bid adieu
To his father and his sisters and his brother
And he hugged and kissed the one who loved him true
Sheila Hall his sobbing grey haired mother.

Thomas Hall he wandered far and wide
And worked and laboured for his living pay
And for a roaming fellow he had pride
He never cadged and always paid his way.

He met and courted many a lovely maid
Yet never contemplated taking wife
Of marriage he felt very much afraid
As he knew that it would change his way of life.

But Thomas proved his own worst enemy
the taverns and the pubs he did frequent
His leisure hours he spent on drunken spree
And his hard earned wages to pub owners went.

In time he formed an alcoholic taste
And he felt he was not drinking half enough
He looked on money spent on food as waste
Quit paying for lodgings and took to sleeping rough.

Thomas on himself was very hard
Liquor had become his only joy
For his good health he showed no regard
And he cared not how he seemed through others eyes.

The wandering way of life and constant drinking
Were two bad habits he could not control
His massive frame it visibly was shrinking
And rough living had commenced to take it's toll.

One winter's morning on a side street in the city
A young man whilst walking towards his place of employment
Came upon a sight that filled his heart with pity
Across his path a man lay prostrate on the pavement.

It was Thomas Hall and he looked pale and sickly
And his appearance caused the young man worry
And to a nearby doctor's house the man ran quickly
And with the doctor returned in a hurry.

Thomas to the hospital was taken
A victim of pneumonia ghostly white
But the strength to fight illness him had forsaken
And he died at seven thirty on that night.

Just two months short of his thirty fourth birthday
And a young enough age for a man to die
But that's the sort of price one has to pay
For sleeping out under a winter sky.

Thomas Hall's remains were put to earth
In a lonely little cemetery
Half of a mile from his own place of birth
A red brick bungalow near to the sea.

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