The first I had published years ago as Detectiverse in an issue of Ellery Queen:
A toast-let us drink to your health,
To your cunning, your charm, and your stealth.
Then, when you've digested
The poison ingested,
Let's drink to your new widow's wealth.
Sometimes you spend ages pondering choice of weapon:
Whether bullet, or poison, or knife
Is the final solution to strife-
The decision is pressing,
It's all so distressing-
How best to make widow from wife.
Then, of course, what do you do with the body?
The final decision to make-
Does the body get dumped in the lake?
The dumpster, or fountain,
The ledge or the mountain?
Oh dear, was my yard a mistake?
There! My 'silly' has passed and I'll be back to my serious normal self next week.