a/n: a third collection of poems which have been added to by a variety of authors. Thanks again to all :) The poems below belong to the authors listed.
I am still very happy to post moor poems if anyone wishes to join in.
Holmes and companions do not belong to me.
And yet Moor Authors
thirteen
Moor Correspondence from Mr Frankland by mrspencil
Dear Sir, it is my duty to report, for your attention,
A host of misdemeanors which I really have to mention.
I know you think those murders are the major Dartmoor crime,
But several other matters should be taking up your time.
MVMVMV
First, that giant hound of hell presented quite a danger;
Its owner let it roam at large, quite free to maul a stranger.
And Stapleton, the owner, had no muzzle on that hound,
And I'm sure his hunting license will prove nowhere to be found.
And Stapleton's remains are where a corpse should not be put,
And Holmes quite clearly trespassed in that Neolithic hut.
And under false pretences, my sweet daughter went astray.
(At least her feckless, useless artist husband stayed away.)
And Stapleton's dear sister was his wedded wife no less!
(Please add an extra claim for my emotional distress.)
The Barrymores, it's clear, have acted well above the law;
They've helped a hardened criminal cause havoc on the moor.
And have you checked the papers of the Baskerville's young heir?
I would not be surprised to find some shady dealings there.
And, no, I'm not vindictive, petty-minded, sad or bitter.
If Holmes had not picked up that boot, you'd have him too; that's litter!
MVMVMV
So, please direct your efforts to these crimes upon the moors,
I expect a prompt response, I always do, sincerely yours.
MV
fourteen Tic(k)s
by goldvermilion87
Each month with one pipette I dose my pup,
My Arthur, with some liquid Frontline Plus ™
To kill the ticks that on his blood would sup,
And induce lyme, and produce scabs and pus.
Just so, I wish, had Doyle destroyed the "tic"
That crept into a country doctor's prose
And made what had been perfect meter sick
And made the hopeful fangirl shout, "O NOES!"
Perhaps if I had understood sprung rhythm
I would've done a Hopkins with the words
But since I don't, I can do nothing with 'em
That's not (me-TER-ic-AL-ly) for the birds
If only in iambs did the words resound:
"They were the footprints of a giant hound!"
MV
fifteen
The Hippopotamus of the Baskervilles
by Catherine Spark
It gave us such a big surprise
A thing with awful glowing eyes,
A brownish shape with tree-trunk feet
Burst from the mist, we did retreat.
MVMVMV
Holmes said: "I thought he had a hound!
How do we hunt this beast down?
Where did he keep it all these years?"
(Lestrade was by this time in tears).
MVMVMV
Its mouth was wide and it did yawn,
And plodded ominously on.
We felt so helpless standing there
Sir Henry too could only stare.
MVMVMV
Holmes fired at it, so did I…
But – alas – it would not die!
Our bullets just bounced off its skin:
So thick that nothing could get in.
MVMVMV
The beast made one last mighty rush
Towards Sir Henry, for to crush,
We ran but it was far too late –
The hippo's head start was too great.
MVMVMV
But Providence was on our side,
Because the sheer weight of its hide
Did drag it down into the mire,
Where it did sink, there to expire.
MV
sixteen
Moor Remorse
by Hades Lord of the Dead
It was a dog, which I had shot,
And stopped it in its tracks.
I didn't give a second thought,
Fear had all thoughts hijacked.
MVMVMV
It was a pet, which I had met,
And now myself I do curse,
For my bullet must indeed have set,
Its health to grow much worse.
MVMVMV
It is remorse, from which the source,
Is this same dog and pet.
Most scared and terrified, of course,
Of any hound I've ever met.
MVMVMV
It was a dog, which I had shot,
To save Sir Henry from the pain,
But now I wish that I had not,
Made this the last spot it had lain.
MV
yet moor to follow...?