In the blackest of night I was struck on the head
By what I can’t really be sure
With a dark certain knowledge I knew I was dead
As my skull leaked blood onto the floor

I lay there quite still and unable to move
While the culprit made fast their escape
It wasn’t a knife or a gun or a rope
Something hard cracked my skull like a grape

An hour soon passed in the blink of an eye
While I wait for the opening door
At last a shrill scream split the silence of night
And a woman collapsed to the floor

Footsteps came running with shouting and gasps
And my body was prodded and poked
The indignity of it just made my blood boil
As all of them laughed and then joked

How dare they, I thought, my heart full of spite
I was dead and they showed no remorse
The sympathy lacking from all of my guests
Would come back to haunt in due course

The stairway soon emptied, they rushed to the hall
Sounds of arguing over the cause
Mrs White said she thought it must be Colonel M
And accepted a round of applause

A gruff voice objected and swearing began
As a scuffle ensued out of sight
A shot echoed loud amidst screaming and shouts
As footsteps fled into the night

So was it Miss Scarlet with heavy lead pipe
Or Reverend Green with a spanner
Perhaps Mrs Peacock with bright candlestick
Or Professor Plum with a hammer

Sirens blared loud through the cold winter night
At last the police must be here
Soon they arrested my cook, Mrs White
Who was handcuffed and dragged off in tears

The house now stands empty and silent I wait
At the base of the old cellar stair
But who now will mourn for me as I lay here
Doctor Black with my cold vacant stare

Six for Dinner was awarded 2nd place in the poetry category
of the 2020 President’s competition

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