there was always

someone in town

with a tale to tell

of love's departed

of lives restarted

and children down the well

whose business it was

no one could ever say

too busy were they listening

whether a tryst in the stable

a husband that's no longer able

or the Thomas baby's christening

all within back country lanes

where bandied about were many names

of whose spell he might be under

if she was a lady or a whore

if she could be trusted anymore

her reputation torn asunder

empty dirt roads long and wide

tongues crossover to the other side

not just the ladies but the men, too

craving a new sadness for their glee

strange joy at another's treachery

the many gossips scourge the few