Subject: 21st December prompt from BookRookie12: Christmas to the Baker Street Boys.
Christmas in Baker Street
Holmes appeared disgruntled;
His festive faux disdain.
"Surely my dear Watson,
There's no need for this again?
Bullet holes suffice all year
To decorate the walls,
I really cannot fathom
This strange need to 'Deck the Halls'.
And mistletoe's a parasite,
And holly grows outside,
And angels don't belong on trees
Because it's Christmastide!"
I rolled my eyes and carried on
With glue and paper chain
Then picked our unique angel up
With Gladstone bag and cane.
I thought of seasons past,
Attached the ornament with care;
The year he'd made that angel,
(The years he wasn't there...)
The line of paper fairies
Which were hung up every time.
His Christmas wreath, a monument
To mayhem, death, and crime.
The remnants of the year
He'd dressed the house as hallowe'en;
The bats still slept on peacefully,
With baubles in between.
The cards from grateful clients,
Which spilled out from every shelf
The test tube branched, unnatural tree
He'd made one year, himself.
The sand and bucket readied for
All accidental flames;
Essential since Holmes' penchant for
Experimental games.
Wrapped gifts, the contents long deduced,
Stacked neatly on the floor.
Dickens' Christmas Carol, next to gingerbread
And more,
In case of urchin visitors
(Or mice) in need of cheer.
Although he deigned to mock my toil,
True sentiments were clear
~0~
Holmes liked the festive frippery;
This year,
And every year.
~0~