[basil ransome-davies]

I can only spot a reversed opening foot. Not sure it reads comfortably, though.

Meanwhile:


Othello, Act I scene III, Iago: 'Thus do I ever make my fool my purse...' by Kipling

I'll use that bloomin' 'alf-wit to sharpen up my plan.
I wouldn't give 'im time of day, just chattin' man to man,
But 'e can 'elp me dish the Moor, 'oo as the gossip runs
Is at it with my missus like a pair o' gatling guns.

Call it just a barracks rumour, but to me it's all the same.
A man I 'ate I'll 'ate buckshee, regardless of the blame.
Yet a loyal and honest ancient is 'ow 'e thinks of me,
Which makes my scheme as easy as unwinding a puttee.

Now Cassio, 'oo's in my way – 'ow do I topple 'im?
'E scrubs well in uniform, although 'is lights are dim,
The ladies 'ave an eye for 'im, so what if I suggest
That Cassio's the cuckoo in Othello's little nest?

The Moor's still wet be'ind the ears. 'E thinks the best of folk.
You can lead 'im where you want 'im like an 'opeless plodding moke.
So there it is, a strategy straight from the pit of 'ell;
For me it's blissful vengeance, but for 'im it's bliss farewell.