Best Watson Poems
Dearest Darren I miss you oh so much
All I want is for you to be returned to good health
Romantic writes you penned so well
Ridiculous sense of humour we share
Emails flew between us faster than Concorde
No one could make me laugh the way you do
Wish I knew how you are doing my friend
All my love and prayers are sent to you
There will never be another to take your place
So much fun being your poetry partner
Oh what a blast we had writing as Jadazzle United
Never a day passes when I don’t think of you
01~31~15
A double sonnet in which the great detective and his faithful sidekick, Dr. Watson, alternately deduce the cause of Sherlock’s latest malady…
Part the first
Sherlock could not deduce his source of pain
at first. “Try as I might, I cannot find
the cause – is it contusion, or a sprain?
Perchance a mere psychosis of the mind?
“Yet by deduction, I’ve ruled out the plague,
consumption, smallpox, cholera, and mumps.
My symptoms, although serious, are vague –
this lack of answers has me in the dumps!
“Where’s Watson? He would have a quick prognosis –
I’ve never seen him err in all our years”.
Then! Churn of stomach yields its diagnosis
just as his friend, the good doctor, appears:
“What seems to be the problem, troubled one?”
“It’s alimentary, my dear Watson!”
Part the second
But from the learnéd doctor’s point of view,
there yet were tests and readings still to take.
He’d learnt the ill effects of poor review
and on his friend would not make that mistake.
“Stick out your tongue! Now, turn your head and cough!
Say ‘ah’. Hold this thermometer in place,
and while you’re at it, take your trousers off -
we’d better check your prostate, just in case!"
But Sherlock dashes to the water closet
in dire urgency and grave chagrin
to make a loud and liquidy deposit.
“It’s diarrhea!” Doc yells with a grin.
“How did you know?”, shouts Holmes. “How in tarnation?”
“Why, Holmes, mere process of elimination!”
written 17 Jan 2020
We hear the engine whistle
The hissing of the steam
The hairs on our necks begin to bristle
As we meet the arrival of a dream
We didn't think we had a chance of winning
Entering just for fun I guess
but thanks to simple poem we are grinning
As we board the Orient express.
London to Paris, what a dream come true
I never dreamed the sparks would fly between us two
The fireman stokes the boiler; and releases a jet of steam
The guard collects our tickets and we begin our dream
Days and nights together on this magnificent train
Travel through beautiful places, seeing new terrain
Enthralled at the elegance and beauty of the carriage
Will our trip together end up with our marriage
Looking so handsome in your new dinner jacket
Glad you won this holiday; it must have cost a packet
The ambiance of the surroundings is utter bliss
We seal our relationship with a tender kiss
Holding hands so gently we share a vintage wine
Sitting in the Pullman coach you rest your head on mine
Velvet blue sky and shining stars start to cast their spell
The romantic seine has such stories to tell.
In Paris we visit the galleries of fine art
Holding your hand I realise you have captured my heart
We pass through the Arc De Triomphe and climb the Eiffel Tower
Now I surrender to your feminine power
Retire with me to the Napoleon suite
Sharing in the splendour of this romantic treat
Promise to be my Mam'selle Josephine
Or expose my heart to Madame Guillotine
You look so beautiful and smell divine
I kiss your lips, They taste of fine wine
We are lost in the flames of passions fire
As we quench the thirst of true loves desire
Our bodies rise and fall as we entwine
Oh I’m so glad that you are mine
All those feelings denied and for so long suppressed
Come to the fore aboard the Orient express.
Passion abates we are wrapped in each others arms
Darren wants more so I succumb to his great charms
Our fire ignites with desire and great passion
Hour upon hour – this man I can’t ration
Finally we reach the end of the line
Our love making session has been so divine
Arm in arm we head out of the carriage door
So hopelessly in love – who could ask for more
15th April 2014
Jan Allison and Darren Watson - 'JaDazzle'
Please also read my Blog about our collaboration
What was once a matching pair are now so very far apart
You hold one key, I hold the other, you are forever in my heart
I use the key daily, and it always reminds me of you
A gift unique and special and I know you use yours too
Jan Allison
27th August 2014
Funny comments on our poems got us working together
Really love receiving your mail
I laugh every time we collaborate
Even though we’re both male* (JOKE)
Never dreamed of a friendship so strong
Don’t know if we will ever meet
Soul mate on Poetry Soup
Jan Allison
16th April 2014
* This refers to our collaboration poem 'Our first meeting in the Isle of Man' where I started off as JAN BUT had Previously been STAN
I AM REALLY AND TRULY FEMALE
Darren has written me a poem so I felt I had to reciprocate
Sherlock Holmes was seen at the local bar
Spying while drinking and smoking cigars
Ready to break his crime case
And take down the shady place
While Watson safely waited in the car
1/29/19
Limerick 3 contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
( 10,10, 7,7, 10)Howmanysyllables.com
Bronco Don Johnson and Bally Watson...
Oh they speak of Bally Watson and the Dirran boys don't laugh...
Yet they tell in whispers how his ear was shot in half...
Old Bronco Don had shot him for everyone to see...
Witnesses could not be found though the coppers asked all three...
Bally he bolted, drove fast to get away...
For a bullet had his number, safer up old Mitchell way...
Yes it was in the fifties an old soldier got a win...
Don was locked up for the night for the drunken driving sin...
Don had been to Kokoda and the Middle East war too...
He was quick on the trigger mate and never missed, they knew....
A mob had come to bash him, back in nineteen forty five...
Dons down the stairs a shooting quick, they were glad to be alive...
7 years had come and gone, Bally appeared they say...
Sent word he wanted to see old Don out the Culgoa river way...
Mark John went as backup a rifle in his hand...
Mark did cover the drovers, shoot low was the command...
Bally got no permission was told to stay away...
Just bypass the town is what old Don did say...
So Bally is known throughout the west ...
the earmark worn by him...
The Sheriff really did his best ...
To make his ear hole ring...
When you get a car door slammed on your head ?..
Broken cheek bone!...
You might get tempted to shoot a man dead ...perhaps..... ..Don Johnson
Pickles met a woman in town who complained about him saying she needed a martingale to
keep her head down . (Horsemen and women will know a martingale has a connection to the
bridle to stop a horse jerking up its head sometimes possibly smacking the rider in the
nose. Also it looks better if the horse doesn't do a Giraffe impression .) So pickles
said no missus I said you would need 2 martingales to keep your head down, one just
wouldn't do the trick.
One of the Dirranbandi characters Jack Laughton was heard to utter with a grin , how
would you like that old bat to fart on your last cup of flour?
Vote for me I'm your man, honest tom Watson
I'm for the membership me ,awesome tom Watson
loyal to the party and to our leader,I'm your best option tom Watson
the listening candidate . that's me tom Watson
Oh you have voted now , aren't you mugs ,I'm tom Watson
well the members are stuffed now you voted for me, yep its tom Watson
loyalty for fools and our leaders a tool says good old tom Watson
Listen to you, your having a laugh, I'm tom Watson
well have we got news for you your going to lose , tom Watson
it's the labour party not the MP's party, up yours tom Watson
members don't like Politician's that lie that's you tom Watson
hear this you need to go tom Watson !
vote for Jeremy Corbyn
Beautiful woman Emma Watson
Harry Potter fans love her a ton
She play’s a witch, with spells she may resort
To save our lives against the evil Voldemort
Russell Sivey
Here's my Clerihew! I hope you enjoyed it!
Sherlock Holmes and Watson made
A duo fighting crime
The wise detective and his friend
The greatest in their time!
It all began with 'Gloria Scott'
When old man Trevor died
Sherlock then, to help his friend
His hobby theories tried
Whether Naval Treaties lost
Or strange Red-headed League
Holmes and trusty Watson solved
Conundrums and intrigue
Whether 'twas the Second Stain
Or swan at Abbey Grange
Those dearest fellows smoked their pipes
On matters grave and strange
If Watson never understood
'Till matters did conclude
It sometimes seems 'twas Holmes's fault
That things were misconstrued
Then there came the felons' dread
The sudden shout, "Halloa!"
And Watson, sometimes young Lestrade
Would run to see below
I think, perhaps, that Watson's mind
Was sharper yet than ours
For putting up with Holmes's quirks
Could be like counting stars
Sherlock Holmes once said to Watson,
“This murder was done by a dachshund!
It’s quite elementary;
He’s short and he’s hairy
And walks with two pairs of socks on.”
We walk across meadow and moor
Along tracks where horse and carriage once rode
Treading paths where the poets of yore
In search of inspiration once strode.
Lilac and sage scented hedgerow
Old stone wall needs repair
The Bronte's oft walked this furrow
That now with my best friend I share
Side by side in the sunshine we stroll
Even in silence we still keep up our stride
Stopping by the riverside for a drink and a roll
No prejudice in what we say, we still maintain our pride
Enjoying each other’s company for hour upon hour
Coyly smiling you gently take my arm
Stooping down gently you pick me a delicate flower
Secure in your company I can’t come to any harm
Arm in arm we retrace the steps of Agnes Grey
We are enveloped in the spirit of Jane Eyre
Heathcliff and Catherine come out to play
We sense both their joy and despair.
In the plush settings of the hotel we dine
Becoming the tenants of Wildfell Hall
Great company, good food and a glass of wine
We are guests at the Bronte Ball.
We become Jane and Mr Rochester that night
Dancing together in demure and graceful style
You look so handsome in the flickering candlelight
Your arm round my waist, it lingers a while
Climbing the stairs to our adjoining room
You look at me longingly; there is no haste
Do we become lovers, or is it too soon
Like a Bronte heroine I remain chaste
Collaboration Poem By Darren Watson & Jan Allison
8th April 2014
TO FULLY UNDERSTAND THIS POEM PLEASE READ MY POEM 'HELLLPPPP I'VE LOST MY BANANA' AND DARREN WATSON'S POEM 'FUN GAMES'
Good folks of Poetry Soup you may have read of my dilemma
My Banana it went missing – it was nicked by this lovely fella
Darren invited me to join him in some fun and games
I don’t call him big boy for nothing its one of our pet names
Darren has confessed to me he stole my juicy fruit
I’d sapped all his energy he was worried I’d give him the boot
So if you don’t see us here for a while it’s down to the roll of a dice
If he wants me to play his games I won’t have to stop and think twice.
Jan Allison
15th May 2014
Poem was written after reading Darren's poem 'Fun Games' and is printed with his permission
Sinister Minister of Information
Watson's IBM's New Technological Creation
Will He Fill Human's Life with Glee
Or Will He Be Like Hal's 2001 A Space Odyssey
Winning Jeopardy Is a Sterling Orientation
As Long as this Ain't The Beginning
Of a Machine Take-Over Orchestration
We walk across meadow and moor
Along tracks where horse and carriage once rode
Treading paths where the poets of yore
In search of inspiration once strode.
Lilac and sage scented hedgerow
Old stone wall needs repair
The Bronte's oft walked this furrow
That now with my best friend I share
Side by side in the sunshine we stroll
Even in silence we still keep up our stride
Stopping by the riverside for a drink and a roll
No prejudice in what we say, we still maintain our pride
Enjoying each other’s company for hour upon hour
Coyly smiling you gently take my arm
Stooping down you pick me a delicate flower
Secure in your company; I can’t come to any harm
Arm in arm we retrace the steps of Agnes Grey
We are enveloped in the spirit of Jane Eyre
Heathcliff and Catherine come out to play
We sense both their joy and despair.
In the plush settings of the hotel we dine
Becoming the tenants of Wildfell Hall
Great company, good food and a glass of wine
We are guests at the Bronte Ball.
We become Jane and Mr Rochester that night
Dancing together in demure and graceful style
You look so handsome in the flickering candlelight
Your arm round my waist, it lingers a while
Climbing the stairs to our adjoining rooms
You look at me longingly; there is no haste
Do we become lovers, or is it too soon
Like a Bronte heroine I remain chaste
Eileen Ghali has been kind enough to create a BLOG about our collaboration poem, please drop by and read it.You can access it via the HOME page
Collaboration Poem By Darren Watson & Jan Allison
9th April 2014