AN-So I woke up this morning, very early, wanting to write a poem. I couldn't get back to sleep so I got up and wrote this. I suppose it's my fault, forget reading scary stories, it's bad reading Dr Seuss before bed.
Do I really have to do the disclaimer? I'm pretty sure that everyone knows I don't own Sherlock and I doubt I ever will.
Anyway, Enjoy!
Detectives, soldiers and cat whiskers
Sherlock Holmes, alone he stood,
Looking at down the street,
Of his new neighbour hood.
He worked for the police and for the Yard.
He helped them out,
When times got hard.
Now far away, up on his horse high,
The British Government,
Watched with a sigh.
His brother was great but not always kind,
The bane of all criminals,
With his brilliant mind.
The detective waited outside his flat,
When against his leg,
He felt the brush of a cat.
On looking down at the blond ball of fluff,
He became curious,
And grabbed it by the scruff.
The cat was a fighter, the cat was brave.
The cats every move,
Showed the battle he craved.
Sherlock stroke its ear then, without a rat-a-tat-tat,
Opened the door,
And in brought the cat.
Inside the flat, Sherlock began
To search for food,
Perhaps in a can.
The cat flicked its ears then licked its paws
It waited in silence,
Then tapped it claws.
With food in a bowl and milk in a tray,
The detective decided,
To name the stray.
The cat looked so common yet it felt like a con,
So, with a hint of a smile,
He called it John.
The lights cut out and a cold wind blew,
The plates all rattled,
And the experiments did too.
In a haze of fear, Sherlock soon saw,
Instead of a cat,
Stood a man on his floor.
The man was embarrassed, his cheeks turned red,
He tried to regain,
The dignity he'd shed.
Sherlock with a smile, ordered a command.
'Wait here.' He said,
With a wave of his hand.
Then off flew the detective, away to his room.
He found some old cloths,
And a brush to groom.
He then returned to the man who once was a cat.
Gave him the items,
And then turned his back.
John dressed quickly, then brushed his hair,
He walked past the detective,
And took up a chair.
'Who are you?' Asked Sherlock. 'Why are you here.'
The ex cat shrugged,
Then scratched his ear.
'I don't know.' He replied. 'It's all big blur.
One moment I'm a doctor,
The next, I purr.'
Sherlock looked in interest at the puzzle he had found,
'So you were in the army.'
He aimed to astound.
John gave a glance and in a curious whisper,
Asked, 'How did you know?'
Sherlock's smiled grew crisper.
'By the state of your shoulder, your tan and your stance,
It's not hard to determine,
For which service you prance.'
Just then a call shrilled through the room.
Sherlock grinned brightly,
and started to zoom,
'There's been a murder, hallelujah!' He cried.
John gave him a glance,
Then rolled his eyes.
The detective gave a short laugh then jumped with glee
,Before turning to the man,
To ask, 'Accompany me?'
John froze to the spot, wondering if he heard right.
He so longed to jump back,
Back into the fight.
The two men left, calling their goodbyes to the landlady,
To solve the crimes,
Of the underworld shady.
And Mycroft sat with a smile on his face, watching the two,
Should ever they need him,
He'd know what to do.
So John had found his way back to the fight,
A way to live,
And a blog to write.
While Sherlock himself, with a heart still to mend,
Had found John Watson,
Partner, collegue and, above all, friend
AN- Yay! All done. Feel free to review. It's nice to do something a bit more light hearted.
B
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