Trial By Rumour

Silently they gossip with nodding heads
And hidden secrets appear on display
While the victim stands with his soul in shreds
With his thoughts torn by the all-knowing eye
In the parlour of old-fashioned decay
Where even the innocent can but cry
Their trial by rumour with sentence passed
No words can be offered in self defence
The old ladies certain unto the last
That only they know all like witches do
But stay quiet my son, do not be tense
For soon they will forget all about you
Silently they gossip with nodding heads
Their trial by rumour with sentence passed

©JG Farmer 2016
Form: Cornish Sonnet 1

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