Happy Holidays! This is specifically dedicated to ColleenTJ who is not only a brilliant writer, but a great person and shares my obsessions, too. So I present to all of you, and especially her, this half-way rendition of "The Night Before Christmas" composed of haphazard rhyming and a few words that I doubt exist. Please, if you have time, leave me a review as a Christmas gift, and stop over at ColleenTJ's profile to read a few of her grand stories!
Enjoy!
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through 221B,
No crimes were occurring by Moriarty.
All the experiments were brewing inside of the fridge,
Including that severed head that made John gulp and cringe.
Sherlock was nestled all snug in his bed,
Whilst visions of homicides danced in his head.
With the detective in his purple shirt of sex and John in his red undies,
They had just settled down for a red pants Monday.
But out from the flat there arose such an explosion,
That Sherlock sprang from his bed to see weather erosion.
He opened the window and pulled out his violin,
And played a small tune about a stentorian din.
John woke up, "Sherlock, you sod; go the hell back to bed,"
But Sherlock retorted, "How about you kiss me, instead."
John let out a sigh and scooched from his seat,
He sleepily stood up and pecked Sherlock's cheek.
"How very sublime," He said and he smiled,
But what John saw from the window made him collapse in a pile.
Sherlock took a long look and gasped just as well,
What he saw seemed to have crawled from straight out of Hell.
Flying through the air with a Santa hat donned,
Was Moriarty crying and dressed as James Bond.
"Am I high?" Thought Sherlock- though John saw it, too,
And then the Consulting Criminal shouted, "THAT'S WHAT PEOPLE DO!"