Poetry
IN THE KITCHEN
(This is a poem I wrote for the Challenge but decided not to submit as it was too silly. I submitted something else. But I thought I'd put it in here just for fun. It is based on the game called 'Cluedo'. See the notes at the bottom.)
The debris strewn across the yard
Told a silent tale
Of stealth and theft and disarray,
Of deeds beyond the pale.
The perpetrator left a trail
Of things he tried to steal,
Disturbed while he was on the run
With someone at his heel.
The mansion was a stately home,
Its ambience was fine.
Set in gardens manicured,
The rooms they numbered nine.
Inspector Cluedo came at once.
He set about the task
Of interviewing all the staff.
He had a lot to ask.
He called together all the guests
Although they were distressed.
He had to sleuth the culprit out
For no-one had confessed.
They gathered in the ballroom, all,
Each one with solemn face.
It was the worst crime ever known
Within that hallowed place.
First on the scene after the crime
Was dainty Mrs White.
She found the victim on the floor
At ten o'clock at night.
She screamed and Colonel Mustard came.
He must have been quite near.
He moved her out and sat her down
"Are you alright my dear?"
Inspector Cluedo wrote it down.
He teased the story out.
He learnt that Mrs Peacock heard
A short and muffled shout.
She was in the dining room
With no-one else around.
She rushed and saw poor Mrs White
There sitting on the ground.
The Reverend Green was by her side
Trying to calm her down.
He'd rushed there from the library
With quite a worried frown.
Professor Plum heard not a sound.
He said he fell asleep
While in the study on his own,
And didn't hear a peep.
Inspector Cluedo checked his list,
Miss Scarlett, that was all.
She said she'd danced the night away
Alone down in the hall.
The evidence was complex now,
The truth was hard to find,
But Cluedo searched the rooms and found
Some weapons left behind.
A dagger, candlestick and rope
Were on the kitchen floor,
Then outside was a pipe of lead
A spanner near the door.
The murder weapon wasn't there,
He knew it was a gun.
He found it underneath a bush
A revolver was the one.
He knew the weapon but the rest
Was still a mystery.
He read his notes, he scratched his head,
He had a cup of tea.
It wasn't in the ballroom
Or the library or the hall,
Nor the billiard room or study,
No, none of these at all.
The crime had been committed
In the darkness and the gloom,
Not in the conservatory or lounge
Nor in the dining room.
The cellar or the kitchen loomed
Up as the likely place,
But who to blame was still unclear,
A person mean and base.
Cluedo puzzled then at last
He said he knew the one.
He told them he found fingerprints
Upon the awful gun.
"Colonel Mustard please step forward
For this I will attest,
You shot the victim and I place you
Under house arrest.
"You came so quickly to the aid
of gentle Mrs White,
But it was a clear attempt
To hide your guilt that night
"The weapon, a revolver, had
Your fingerprints galore.
Your callousness and cruelty
Is what we all deplore.
"But where was it you shot him down
To steal for worldly gain?
In the kitchen near the sink
You shot him through the brain.
"So take him now men of the law,
Lead him from this place,
And may we never see again
A crime of such disgrace."
(Notes: In the game of 'Cluedo' players have to determine who committed the murder, in what room and with what weapon. That inspired this poem.
The characters are: Miss Scarlett, Colonel Mustard, Mrs White, Reverend Green, Mrs Peacock, Professor Plum.
The weapons are: candlestick, dagger, lead pipe, revolver,rope, spanner
The rooms are: kitchen, ballroom, conservatory, dining room, cellar, billiard room, library, lounge, study)
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awwwwwwww you should have submitted it... Thanks for your comment and i really enjoyed this, it kept me wanting to read more... Great job....
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