The  reverend's  busybody wife
has shown up just in time for tea.
Her thirst for gossip rules her life.
Well, we'll just see.

She's here, it seems, to "comfort" me.
She prattles on of this and that.
Her sympathy is hardly free.
The nosey bat.

In fact, I think she's come to gloat,
though now she's speaking of her cat.
I smile and nod, my thoughts remote.
I hate her hat.

She wonders if I'd plans as yet,
my husband gone without a word.
The congregation's quite upset.
My fault inferred.

"The organist has left us stunned,"
she wondered if I'd heard the news.
"She's run off with the building fund!"
Such ugly shoes.

I don't accuse, look shocked instead.
As rector's wife, of course she'd care.
She looks at me and cocks her head.
Her perfect hair.

"You're not surprised? I thought you'd be.
An odd coincidence." she smirks.
She shakes her head, then sips more tea.
Her manner irks.

"An epidemic it would seem,"
I say. She crumples, drops her plate.
"Your souls the Lord will not redeem"
It's far too late.

So much for morbid sympathy
The visit really had to end
My husband also loved that tea.
My special blend