• By dawn a thick fog covers a city of crime,
    The sun is blurred in its wake
    But even at this unusual time,
    One person is quite awake

    Though surrounded by the London clatter
    His senses turned it away
    For clearly something was the matter
    From what that note had to say

    Not wishing to disturb his companion,
    nor wishing to lose his scent,
    He dawned a cap, and hunting cloak
    and on his way he went.

    His friend, awoke, shortly thereafter,
    And ate his breakfast alone,
    When into the room, with his silent laughter
    came the famous Sherlock Holmes

    "My dear Watson," the detective began,
    "What an interesting morning I've had!"
    "Have you gotten another case?" asked the Doctor.
    "Indeed," he replied, with no more to add.

    Watson did not press the subject,
    It was simply Sherlock's way,
    a way to which Watson could not object,
    to think rather than to say.

    Pressing together the tips of his fingers,
    and leaning back in his chair,
    Smoke from his cherry pipe lingers,
    filling the living room air.