The Lady Novelist Disappears
(loosely based on a mysterious episode in the life of Agatha Christie)



She left her handsome husband
who only lived for golf
and for a handsome woman
much younger than himself.

Her daughter was away at school.
She wrote about the horse,
not whether they must sell it
after the divorce.

The neighbours were all due for lunch.
Quite tricky to be merry
when he sulked from a row, and Cook
had watered down the sherry.

They found her in a small hotel
her meal-tray on the mat.
‘Do Not Disturb’ hung on her door.
Now why would she do that?

Alison Brackenbury

If you have any comments on this poem,  Alison Brackenbury  would be pleased to hear from you.