Spreading Rumours!

Rumours can cause all sorts of havoc, creating panic and hurt where none was intended and fear where there is nothing to be feared. Well, it is no rumour that there are a lot of teacher resources, library resources and resources for parents freely available for download from www.sharing books.com! The latest item available for download, however, is about rumours.

Everyone loves music! It is one of the key components of any festival, but when the music maker is thought to be gravely ill, or even to have died everyone is thrown into panic. This story book, created in collaboration with Arti Chauhan, describes the havoc wrought by the spreading of a rumour! The book, The Rumour, is available for free download from Sharing Books. I hope you enjoy this book. Feedback is most welcome through JacketFlap, my networking site.

The Rumour  by J.R.Poulter 09

“Have you heard, have heard!

The young woman cried,

Carrying her basket of grain,

“The village musician is ailing.

I could hear him, hes in so much pain!

Alas, the poor man must be, failing,

It is all just too awful,” she sighed. ”

Her friends were alarmed at the prospect,

They threw up their hands in dismay.

“This cannot be true! Oh what shall we do

If he cannot here on the day!

Our Festival is so important!

How could he do something so rash!

Our Festival brings in the tourists,

The tourists, they bring in the cash!”

“And worse, what if its fatal?

What if our music man died!?”

The three women sat huddled together,

They wailed and they moaned and they cried.

The young priest heard as he walked by

The words our music man died

And immediately ran to his Holy Man.

”Alas, alas our music man has suddenly expired!”

“This is not good,” his master said,

“The Festival music maker dead!”

The master sent the young priest to

The neighboring village without ado.

“Tell them this is a most sad affair,

We must borrow their musician

For our sacred fair.”

The young priest hurried as fast as he could

He  came to that village, but try as he would

He found no music, no music man.

“Help me,” he asked, “to find, if you can,

Someone to play, and they must be good,

To draw the tourists as they should.”

“Music man?” the woman said,

“Alas our old music man is dead.

We were going to send to you

To borrow yours! What will WE do?”

The young priest hung his head and cried,

“What terrible fate has wrought such a to do,

Both music men have gone and died

What WILL we do, its gloom and doom!

The whole of the district will end up in ruin!”

The old music maker had been in his hut

Fast asleep with his wooden door shut.

He woke to commotion and clamour and noise.

“Those parents should really control their boys!”

He shook his head and sat upright

And set to tuning his instrument tight.

The instrument wailed and made such a din.

“Ah,” he muttered, “No use, no more excuse,

I NEED new strings, these are worn too thin!”