I would like to dedicate this to MrsPencil, poetess extraordinaire, good friend and inspiration.
Once more, a Study in Pink.
Like a beacon in the night-time
Lighting up each scene of crime,
Irritating those around him
His intelligence sublime.
But then once the crime is solved
And swift deductions at an end,
Returning home to empty flat
A man alone without a friend.
~O~
Across the rocks and desert sand,
Doing everything he can,
Disregarding his own safety
He ran to save a fallen man.
Came the time that he fell victim
Sniper's shot through blood and bone,
He then found himself discarded,
Back in England, lost, alone.
~O~
Through the park to a chance meeting
Friend from far off student days,
Laughs as injured friend unwitting
Mirrors words another says.
Takes him back to lab at Bart's,
Potential flatmate he must meet,
Finds enigmatic scientist is
Perched upon a wooden seat.
~O~
Pale eyes study limping man and
See all he would wish kept abstruse,
Curiosity is piqued,
Put brain cells to divergent use.
Returning borrowed phone he asks
Was it Iraq? Afghanistan?
And smiles a little at the base
Confusion of the shorter man.
~O~
Confusion now increases as,
Without ado, an invitation
To meet the following evening,
At seven, for investigation
Of the living space the
Scientist would like to share,
The briefest hesitation, then
The soldier said he would be there.
~O~
The experience was the strangest
That the soldier ever had
And left him wondering if his
Prospective flatmate was quite mad.
He'd barely looked around before
A policeman thundered up the stairs.
Another murder, this time Brixton
Before he knew it they were there.
~O~
A body dressed in pink,
An empty room, no case, no phone,
Abundant clues for the scientist
The soldier limps away, alone.
Tracked and followed down the street
He finds himself in sleek black car.
A stranger who knows all about him
Offers bribe but won't get far.
~O~
Returning to the flat he finds
The scientist is thinking hard,
He needs the soldier's phone to
Send a text to number on a card.
As he dictates the message
Valiant soldier types it slow,
Did he just text a murderer?
The one thing that he wants to know.
~O~
Then off to watch and see if
Murderer would take the bait.
In a candle-lit window
At Angelo's the pair now wait.
A cab pulls up, no-one alights
The passenger turns round.
The pair sprint from the restaurant
At speed, and covering ground.
~O~
Dismay when at last they catch the cab
Passenger is not the one who
Killed the four fake suicides,
His arrival here is far too new.
Back at Baker Street the scientist
Proves to be a real dark horse,
A drug raid at their brand new flat
The police are out in force.
~O~
The officers debate until
Mid raid, the scientist slips away
And gets into a waiting cab,
Much to his soldier friend's dismay.
And then after the police have gone
The soldier tries to put things straight,
An alert sounds showing friend's location
He follows, hopes he's not too late.
~O~
A cabbie and a scientist in
A college discussing sponsorship,
Money paid for every person
Unluckily caught within his grip.
The scientist deduces every
Reason that the man could give
For playing God, deciding
Who should die and who might live.
~O~
At last the game is over, cabbie taunts
The scientist, take the pill,
The soldier from afar takes aim and
Shoots him dead, for good or ill.
In aftermath he stands and watches
Blue lights flash, illuminating the street,
Glances meet across the bustle
And then the scientist's on his feet
~O~
The soldiers limp no longer there,
The scientist no longer alone,
To Baker Street they now return,
To the flat they now call home.
John, the soldier and doctor,
Spends his days now noting each quirk
Of Sherlock consulting detective,
Genius, artist at work!