Mystery Sonnet: Agatha Christie by Shawn Matthew Hannigan

O dear deceptive Dame Agatha Christie,

Mistress of the mis-direction;

Master of the clue so misty—

Unequaled in mystery detection;

It is a mystery cliché

But one must suspect the unsuspected;

Like an early snow that will not lay

Upon the ground melting unmolested;

From And Then There Were None

To Why Didn’t They Ask Evans?

Like an elaborate web that’s spun

By a suspenseful spider of the heavens—

Many times I’ve been entangled

On a sticky plot that she has dangled!

Copyright © 2011 by Shawn Matthew Hannigan

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