A/N: Prompt 9 from sirensbane: Gift-giving.
Gift
A cold December day, now early evening;
The Great Detective checked his watch and scowled,
He wasn't in the mood for Christmas shopping,
And wrapped his coat more tightly as the snow-filled tempest howled.
~0~
He hurried to a porch to find some shelter,
And grumpily unrolled his Christmas list;
He had meant to have this sorted out by lunchtime
But various distractions had proved futile to resist...
~0~
The burglar he had tackled at the bakers,
The hidden gem returned to Scotland Yard,
The missing heiress spotted by her posture,
The forgery unmasked because the glue had set too hard.
~0~
The poisoner who failed to drug his victim,
As Holmes had intervened whilst eating lunch.
The blackmail ring, without a blackmail leader,
Once Holmes had seen him sign his name and followed up a hunch.
~0~
The seller of fake goods, no longer selling,
The murderer whose victim got away,
The cunning youth, no longer picking pockets;
It was, by any reckoning, a rather busy day.
~0~
And now...the blasted shops had started closing!
He hadn't even dealt with item one,
A present for his ever faithful Watson;
As shutters dropped he sighed, the opportunity had gone.
~0~
He trudged back home in snow which chilled his ankles,
Reached Baker Street; no movement, lights were out.
The prospect of a long and lonely evening,
For Watson must have caught an urgent call, without a doubt.
~0~
Cold supper on a covered tray was waiting,
The fire was laid and ready to be lit;
Though grateful for the care of Mrs Hudson,
Another gift excursion did not thrill him, not one bit.
~0~
He deduced that Mrs Hudson had a meeting,
Quite likely one which took an hour or more,
He settled down to eat a roast beef sandwich
Then heard a loud commotion, several knocks upon the door.
~0~
On opening the door, a noisy huddle
Came tumbling in to grace the entrance hall;
Holmes stared at many strangers, bearing presents
And could not make much sense of the cacophony at all.
~0~
He recognised the baker he'd "unburgled",
Who held a rather splendid Christmas cake.
A lady, reunited with her necklace,
Held something wrapped in velvet, which she ordered him to take.
~0~
A penitent, not absent, grateful heiress
Bestowed on him a bright beribboned box,
A grateful art collector brought a painting,
A hale and hearty, nearly-poisoned lady brought some socks.
~0~
A girl, no longer blackmailed, brought fine brandy,
An almost murder victim brought some wine,
A young, repentant lad returned "lost" items,
And promised from now on, he'd bide the law and toe the line.
~0~
Uniquely, Sherlock Holmes was rendered speechless;
The gifts and heartfelt praise went on and on.
They left, a swirl of petticoats and coat tails,
And Holmes stood still, quite thunderstruck, long after they had gone.
~0~
Recovering, he gazed at all the parcels,
Recalled his thwarted quest, began to smile
And hurried to his desk to find some labels;
Reallocating all those gifts, was bound to take a while...
~0~