Sherlock and watson

Knows the clue

When i met Dracula
I sung a song of love
When I met Frankenstein
I sung a song of love
When I met Jack
I sung a song of love
When I met Hyde
I sung a song of love
When I met a Poltergeist
I sung a song of love

The flowers of love
Blooms inside my heart
Calling all odds to sit around my table
Thinking who they are!

Sherlock calls me, after a while
Watson with a gun,
Handed to me, sat beside odds
All ran away, vanished behind the curtains.

​

Reviews

[Victor D. Lopez]

Ah, what strange friends we find in fiction and what strong emotions they can elicit. Unlike in real life, alas, compelling characters that might haunt our dreams can be pushed back into the shadows from whence they come, be it by righteous forces or our own powers of deductive reasoning. Fiction can be so much more compelling and vibrant than real life be it on the page of books written by skilled authors or captured on film by skilled actors and directors. And far safer too. Nice write!

[Arundass TP]

Thank you friend 😊. Have a nice day.

[The_Ancient_Rock]

Interesting piece. Cowardly monsters, fearing a gun.
Dracula should not be hurt by bullets.
And Frankenstein is already dead.
Great poem. Enjoyed reading it.
Keep it up.
Take good care.

[Arundass TP]

Thank you friend 😊

[The_Ancient_Rock]

You are welcome.
👍

[Papaya]

We fall in love with those darned monsters. Their stories are often so compelling and hate to kill them off. Anyway, I like your poem.

[Arundass TP]

Thank you friend 😊