Rumours
Rumours are clouds, so full of rains
from heavens above they fertilise plains.
Rumours are made in river water mills
each turn of the wheel and another one spills.
Rumours grow wings and then they take flight
nocturnal as well so they don't not need no light.
Rumours are echoes that wail in the halls
some say graffiti that are scribbled on walls.
Rumours are goods trains brimming with thought
but sometimes bad news can often be brought.
Rat a tat rumours speak to the sleepers
and when they wake they tell the grim reapers.
Some rumours are known not to be true
oh how we’d act different if only we knew.
Rumours have echoes bouncing like *****
but rarely those juggled eventually falls.
RumuR like this is a spelt palindrome
goes out and comes back but never at home.
Rumours increase and then multiply
but by no calculation could one verify.
Rumours are whispers, Chinese on the vine
though not for 3 monkeys who never drink wine.
Rumours are fables that begin with no end
it’s rare that one hears one which doesn’t offend.
Rumours are stories by authors all gone
when asked of the source they’re always anon.
Rumours are secrets that didn’t survive
they always need someone with which to connive.
Rumours when lost can always be found
a nod and a wink and one ear to the ground.
Priests they hear rumours, often confessed
just say 3 Hail Mary’s and then you are blessed.
A rumour’s a tumour once started it grows
delivered by storks and it reared by the crows.
Rumours have beaks that look like a nose
they start out as sonnets and end up in prose.
A rumour can rhyme and can live in a phone
in a Limerick or haiku it’s never alone.
A rumour can mutter can stammer or stutter
but just like a bread slice it’s nought without butter.
I heard a rumour that my sister was dead
by then she was buried but no family said.
I heard a rumour I was barred from the grave
and security told, that I was a knave.
A rumour that “Plutus” the god of great wealth
from her will, removed me, but I’d prefer health.
But these stories are gossip and some even rumour
and sure what does it matter, I’ve still got my humour.