Mystified Poem by Margaret Alice Second

We are spell-bound, gripped in the clutches
of a mystery of mind-blowing proportions:
Where is Madame La Pompadour, why is
she still gone, why did she SMS on gastro-
intestinal upset and lamenting her
awakening at twenty past eleven

Will she ever return to the office again, will
Human Resources one day carry out its
warning that she is not an asset to the govern-
ment, receiving a salary for no work done; one
long, continuous absence while others do
her job, when will she look at us

Disdainfully again, with the assured arrogance
of one used to command and only rising from
her bed if she feels like it - not very often; what
excuse will she offer next if her health does
not keep deteriorating: buying a night-gown
for mom, geyser burst during the night

A tree to be chopped down, car won't start, dog
to be taken to the vet; she feels depressed
and must see a psychiatrist, she overslept -
like today, her list of excuses being very re-
petitive - How long will Human Resources
and Management keep us

Happily engrossed in guessing the steps to be
taken to deal with the situation, will they give
her merit for the most persistent absentee
encountered in government service, creating
a marvelous plot more complicated than
an Agatha Christie suspense novel

Reminding of ‘They Came to Bagdad' - a
young girl lied all the time, when she finally
spoke the truth no-one believed her - we
are all riveted by the unfolding of this mystery
fascinated and mystified by the daring
exploits of our own Madame

Showing cowards how to go once started
on the road to flaunt the establishment,
we can only shout encouragement:
Way to go Madame, Good Luck!