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Gossipy Women
I hear them whisper
their gossip
and schemes,
half thought out
plans,
half truths and mean.
They cackle
round tea pots
eat biscuits and soon,
brew up some trouble
stirring
large spoons.
They've fanciful thoughts,
conjecture,
fact free,
loose tongued
and evil,
with eyes that don't see.
Devil juice oozes,
like venom,
from snakes.
It flows from their mouths,
as it drips
the earth quakes.
Satan will take them
he needs new
recruits.
He'll feed from their lies
to savour
bad news.
poem
by
Ruth Walters
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