It Was Worth A Wound
A cold mask breaks when thunder shakes the air,
Fabric, flesh are torn with scalding fire,
Hot blood slips through strong fingers fumbling there,
The fear within the room mounts even higher.
For a moment all the world is wrong,
What's clear is dimmed, what's firm begins to shake,
But noble hearts will not be down for long,
Duty must from love it's tribute take.
The greatest hearts and minds reveal their depths,
Humble service given just rewards,
All English heads lay safely in their beds,
For good or ill the story still endures.
Revelation's worth a wounding fall,
Loyalty and love are worth them all.
A sonnet, for the prompt from Book girl fan: "It was worth a wound - it was worth many wounds" How many wounds is it worth?
Author's Note:
Sonnets (and poems in general) about Holmes and Watson are surprisingly common. In fact, I'm sure you're thinking of Vincent Starrett's famous sonnet, 221B, right now. If you're not, I highly recommend you read it :)