Sunlite Wanter Poet Rhyme

The Serial Detective

The Serial Detective

I turned the last page,
It is time to say “goodbye.”
We embraced most of many days,
My tears are salty, though your eyes are dry.

I’ll miss your tummy, the touch of your hand,
Your flabby cheek, the moon, the band.
The way you made notes in your tiny book,
The way you put together the facts while I cooked.

You could solve a case with a burnt cigar,
And go on to another killing not far
You’re fearsome, yet lovesome, yet have a good head,
How many books have you written in my bed

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Darlene De Beaulieu November 16, 2019 at 5:08 PM Hello Sunlite Wanter, this sounds like a book i could read. Have a nice evening my friend.

Quoth Theraven October 12, 2019 at 11:21 AM Sunlite, So glad I detected this poem's solemn good-bye. Your description is all the evidence we need to solve this case. The MO is always the same. We enter & leave life leaving little clues from the scene of the crime. -Richard

Anne-Lise Andresen October 10, 2019 at 4:00 AM - An "old-fashioned" detective could solve many cases with a burned cigar ... :) - A great poem, Sunlite :) - hugs // Anne-Lise :)

Regina Mcintosh October 9, 2019 at 7:57 PM This is a wonderful poem. I enjoyed it tremendously. So thought provoking. A serial detective? Hmm... God bless you with love and prayers, Gina

Chris Green October 9, 2019 at 5:06 PM This seems kind of sad my friend though maybe I am reading it wrong. I really enjoyed it, it creates a scene that seems to move about but comes to a conclusion with a question. Very cool Sunlite.