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Marie Wadsworth

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Holmes Laments Watson's Absence
by Marie Wadsworth
Friday, April 13, 2012
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I'm a huge Sherlock Holmes fan of both books (written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle) and the movies. No, I have not seen the new Robert Downing Jr. and Jude Law offering yet. This poem uses information of Sherlock Holmes lore.

Outside in the rainy London fog
There's a glow 
Of lanterns that line
Cobblestone streets as
Carriages and citizens
Bustle home
For the evening.
This scene is
Very familiar to me
Even though I
Cannot see it
For the back
Of my divan
Faces the window
Of my apartment,
221B Baker Street.
Mrs. Hudson -- 
Heaven bless her! --
Nags at me for
My slovenly mess
I've piled uneaten food, drink, 
Matches, ashes and
Other smoking residue 
All over the place.
And my appearance
Oh, it's atrocious!
I've not shaved my face,
Changed my robe 
Or left this chair
For many a day now
And she is worried
That I have become
A mad, depressed recluse, but
My mind is 
Neither gone nor bored,
But my life has changed
Now that Watson
Has left me
You see he has a wife
To me such things in society
Like women 
Make fools of men. 
From a small drawer
In the night table
By my chair
I put a plug of
White snuff in my pipe
Smoking contentedly I
Pick my trusted violin
From its case
With its bow
I rend a melancholy hymn
And I swear
It's not the wind, but
I hear a
Sinister voice calling
Come, my adversary,
Only you who is
As intelligent and crafty as me
Can engage me!
His challenge is one 
I cannot resist and
One I wish to answer
But I cannot go
Against a solemn vow
I gave to Watson
On his wedding night
So I cannot
Face my enemy, 
That villain, Moriarty alone. And
It is in
Moments such as these
When I most miss Watson,
My doctor, partner and friend.



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