The Tale of the Pretty Talker
That's where her house used to stand
smack dab in the middle of a dead end road
The prettiest talker you'd ever want to hear
Known for her elegant tea parties in her grand abode
Red roses adorned the dining room
Velvet petals sprinkled on linen crisply white
Dainty finger sandwiches and luscious petit fours
Mint tea served in porcelain cups, pinkies up, how polite
Initial conversation focused upon good health, relations and the weather
But the discussion turned, as the pretty talker's voice turned melodic
Red painted lips and red roses created a red haze
And the mint that filled the air was quite hypnotic
The pretty talker aired the neighborhood's dirty laundry
The pregnant teen, the womanizing drunkard, the elderly couple in foreclosure
Under her spell, the guests became pretty talkers as well
Revealing confidences no longer too private or damning for exposure
Polite society dismissed, as the guests boldly defamed
each and every neighbor that wasn't there
Pretty talker's teeth gleamed as she smiled, another successful party
Delighting over others' misfortune is pretty awful but she didn't care
Once the guests left, they began to feel ashamed of themselves
Gossiping wasn't usually this close knit neighborhood's cup of tea
Most tossed and turned in their beds that night
And by morning, they had strangely forgotten their loose lips calamity
On the eve of each monthly tea, the pretty talker dragged a rusty cauldron into the dining room
Pricking her finger with a rose thorn, her bitterness, hatred and jealousy spewed
Spellbound by boiling putridity, she laughed at her neighbors' indignities,
salivated over the mortifying secrets her guests divulged after drinking the potion she brewed
And so it went for eons. The guests kept attending
for they forgot what occurred at the tea the afternoon before
Until one eve while preparing the tea, the pretty talker's lust for dramatic
gossip grew more maniacal than before
No matter how many visions of her neighbors' tears and fears appeared in that brew
it wasn't enough, she wanted more. "More More!" she cried
Drooling as the frothy venom bubbled and churned it called to her saying, "Come hither!"
The cauldron opened wide, the pretty talker screamed and jumped inside
I think there was 1 more dark hearted cackle before the entire house combusted
Perhaps she grew a conscience and ending it was of her own accord
Maybe a higher power decided it was time to step in
Sometimes a person falls on their own sword
7/2/16
Copyright © Dineen Williams Gault | Year Posted 2016
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