Do you remember the night the Innkeeper’s body
Was found in the pond behind his B & B, Sherlock?
Of course, how could you forget? We were
Meeting him that afternoon for his opening tea!
I recall how we were questioned like common thugs
Because we were on the property, thus suspect,
But I had suspects of my own, though I kept quiet,
The police, however, showed us guests no respect!
You and I had no motive, no weapon, no animosity
After all, we were only the afternoon company,
But we knew his wife knew he was sleeping around
And his chef was so jealous!...and so contrary.
Then, there was the note no one shared with us,
So the Innkeeper could’ve decided to do himself in
After all, I was told he had debt out the ying-yang
At least he didn’t shoot himself after drinking gin.
You know I did not do it, and I know you’re innocent
But I am suspicious of her wearing a bathing suit,
And I’m told she had his wallet, credit cards and all
Now, she has the B & B up for a quick sale, to boot!
EIGHTH PLACE WINNER
Written August 1, 2022
Submitted to "Start Sleuthing" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Natasha L. Scragg
Categories:
innkeeper, mystery,
Form: Rhyme
Hello Innkeeper, I would like a room please.
For the night or for the week?
The night please.
He smiles at me with a nice smile.
I return the favor.
With or without stains on the bedding? He asks.
I stare at him hard.
Without please.
Okay, he says cheerfully, but that will cost you double.
How much is that? I ask him.
Three hundred dollars.
For the night?
He nods, and tries to give me keys.
How bad are those stains? I ask.
Categories:
innkeeper, hilarious, humor, humorous,
Form: Light Verse
So why did I do it?
It still isn't clear.
The rooms were all taken;
The busiest this year.
And all of them dusty,
And all of them tired.
The trek to their birth-place
By Rome now required.
A census, the issue.
A right royal pain.
And doubtless the purpose
More tribute to gain.
The evening was settling,
The rush nearly o'er.
But still came a knocking
For help at my door.
The couple so tender,
The young girl with child.
The husband imploring
With eyes almost wild.
About to refuse them,
I glanced once at her.
Amazingly peaceful
And patient, demure...
"But wait, there's the stable.
Not much of a spot.
But shelter and bedding;
That's all I have got.
And liquids and lanterns
And clean swaddling fare.
Go quickly, my children,
Your baby comes there!"
(And so near my livestock
Messiah was born.
The night sky, the shepherds,
The earth-changing morn.)
https://issuu.com/deedub51/docs/bethlehem_king
Categories:
innkeeper, baby, bible, christmas,
Form: Rhyme
The death penalty.
What a laugh
And their pulling on strings
To keep this going
As their money bags swing
Lifelessly
From left to right.
How dare they take an old mans
Walking stick.
How dare they beat their wives,
Breaking the rule of thumb.
What catastrophe could place
This sodden child in their
Arms tonight.
She withers with fright
And is ever watchful of
The innkeeper
Who is paying his debt
To society with offhand eyes.
It is not the pangs of living
That silences her pleading.
Nor is it the throttler
With his sweaty palms so bleak.
It's not the putrid taste of
Tomorrows casualties
Or the attempts to stop the bleeding.
It is the innkeeper
Who is regarded as the man who
Sells perjury by the mouthfuls.
The innkeeper
With his iron stomach and
Scruples drunk
On sloth and negligence.
This wear and tear child
Can spot his hands through
The arched back of her manipulator.
His knuckles are white.
His knuckles are screaming
And singing the song of lechery
While he's avoiding whimpers
Of an exploited adolescent.
Avoiding interrogation.
Categories:
innkeeper, adventure, allegory, angst,
Form: Free verse