Agatha Christie
Born this date, 1890
That part’s no mystery

But how did she sell
Hundreds of millions of books?
No mystery either

Her detectives had
Something for everybody
Poirot, Miss Marple

Poirot, so fussy,
So quirky, so proud to say
He could not be fooled

Jane Marple, so plain,
Seemed so kind, ordinary
To charm and disarm

Both made her readers
Want to think along with them
Believe brains would win

Her plots were good too:
Roger Ackroyd’s twist ending,
“And Then There Were None”

When she killed Poirot
He got a front page obit
In the New York Times

Agatha’s knowledge
Of poisons, the Middle East
Came in quite handy

Her world appealed, too
Murder was a distraction
Not stuff of nightmares

Once killer was caught
Life could go back to normal
Genteel, well ordered

Her books were candy
Not meat, potatoes, blood, guts.
Do pass the bon bons!

Yes, Dame Agatha
We still devour your treats
Print, or PBS

From a different age
You came but you’ll last so long
As life’s a mystery