Recall Charles Laughton
Six decades ago?
Fine role he’d got in
A new picture show.
Quite homely, back hunched,
He wasn’t too bright.
Facial features bunched,
A frightening sight.
Employed by the priests
To toll the church chimes,
Holy days and feasts,
And Sundays at times.
But seems the creature
Defied Paris law.
As is man’s nature,
He’d one fatal flaw.
Loved a gypsy girl
With all of his heart.
His warped head awhirl,
His downfall did start.
Fair Esmerelda,
Thought a witch, folks chased.
Tight Quassie held her -
Aloft the pair raced.
As her protector,
He held off the crowd,
Refused to neglect her.
Made the gypsy proud.
High noon, he took time
His duty to do,
Making the bells chime,
Through the air he flew.
Again and again,
His face hit each bell.
Imaging the pain –
Must ‘ve hurt like hell!
Swinging from a rope,
The clapper, his face.
Losing grip and hope,
Flung self into space.
From a high steeple -
Splat! on steps below,
Circled by people,
Enjoying the show.
One man inquired,
"Can anyone tell
Who’s just expired?
The face rings a bell."
© Richard McCusker
