The Hotel Davenport managed to thrive,
Because it always had sufficient guests to arrive,
Day after day, week after week,
For adequate accommodation they would seek.
A guest arrived late, he looked quite a freak,
And proceeded to check in for the night,
He looked quite pale. “Are you alright?”
Asked the hotelier’s wife. “No not too bright,”
Responded the guest. “Feeling a bit queasy.”
“Must have eaten something too greasy,”
“But I should be alright in the morning,”
He ordered breakfast in bed and, yawning,
Went up the stairs to his solitary room,
With a presentiment of doom and gloom.

The next morning the hotelier took up the room service.
Where was the guest? He was feeling nervous,
He put the tray down, on the lap of the guest,
Conducting a running commentary like a real pest.
The guest was half sitting in bed,
He seemed not to hear anything said.
The hotelier left saying, “Bon Appetite,”
Thinking the guest was a rude old git!
A waitress went up a later hour in the day,
She had forgotten to put any milk on the tray.
Coffee with no milk. She could not abide.
Knocking, she went right inside,
And saw the guest, half sitting in bed,
Looking, for all the world, as if he were dead.
“Here is some milk,” she did gaily say,
“Isn’t it such a beautiful day?”
The guest just lay there, tray on his knees,
The waitress opened a window, to allow a breeze.
She then walked up to the bed,
And shook the guests shoulder, but he was dead!

The waitress gasped, and ran down to Reception.
She was shaking from this dead guest deception.
The hotelier cried, “It must be the Kippers!”
He’d noticed that they were beyond “use by” date flippers.
The hotelier went right up to check,
Of course, there was no movement from the guest.
It all seemed to be such an unwelcome pest.
The hotelier quickly stuffed the kippers aside.
In the pockets of his jacket he did hide,
These smelly objects that could be the cause
Of the guests’ unexpected life pause.

An aura hung over room, yes, an aura of gloom.
A doctor had been summoned, he arrived in the room.
“Who found the body?” he did request,
The hotelier said, “I did serve this guest,”
“He wasn’t very talkative, I though him rude,”
“And a strong smell of kippers he did exude.”
“I’ll have to phone the Coroner, I’m not his physician”
“So to sign the Death Certificate I’m not in a position.”

The hotelier now, downstairs did scamper,
To arrange help, and the laundry hamper.
They lifted the body, and put it in,
The hamper so as not to upset guests within,
Hotel corridors, as they went downstairs,
Observing all appropriate graces and airs.
They needed the room for a booking they had,
So they thought moving the body not too bad.
The laundry hamper was, in the foyer, left.
No-one knowing the contents had a life bereft.
It wasn’t very long until the laundry van came,
And took away the hamper, no body to claim.

Here came that guests’ associates for a meeting,
The hotelier thought them to be the undertaker greeting.
Then he realized the laundry hamper not there,
He could only stand still and vacuously stare.
“Your associate had to the laundry go,”
“I thought he looked to be a dirty so and so.”
“So I expect that is just where you’ll find him,”
“Although the laundry just might mind him,”
“Dropping in unannounced, if you like,”
“They might just tell him, “On your bike!”
“Although, as to that, there is some doubt,”
“He didn’t seem to be an athletic lout!”