In Tempests of Thought Thou first Unspiraled
Mystery to Every mind,
But fact to Thee, like its own fiction spinning;
Are Deductions Simple, that none else shall find.
Casting back Thy Silken Locks, where Thou Gazest sharply,
To Pique Thine Interest fortune Plays a hand,
But Given over to Conscientiousness,
Hint of Thy true nature, to Understand.
Clues in lesser shadow falling than in darkest night,
To Tempt Thy Passions, most Bemusing,
While Accosted in the fleeting Light of Day
By floods of details, Generously accusing.
Lest Thy Brilliance might unfold Thy complex Nature,
Guilt hides in shadows for lesser things Unspoken.
Chide Thy jailor with reckless Tedium pacing,
While Piquant Treasure lies Untested and Unbroken.
And when Thy mortal Merit Seeks transitory Pause
To Kindle a semblance of Keen Distraction,
Delirium, in its Splendor passing,
All too Fleeting Lends Sweet mental Abstraction.
Kissed not once, yet Passion Ever hounding
In places splintered by apparitional haze;
Twilight settles Upon Thy Shoulders, weeping,
To find fear within Thy Ever questing Gaze.
Untold secrets, All asunder in Thy Compass Guiding,
With Ruse of Purpose tailor made for Thee;
While Watchmen run in rampant circles, Aimless,
Profession of Thy Wits, Elementary.
Yet, In Quiet Moments that Entreat Thy Soul,
Reaching for a Notion that yet escapes Thee,
Touching One whose features dull Contemplation,
What Considerations Tempt? Thou Shalt not See!
Deliberate Disparity, to Hide Thy Longing Soul;
In Duplicity Thou Hidest in plain Sight;
While none may query such Silence Breaking,
Shattering Thy Ruse like Shards of Light.
Success is measured in Measures on the page,
In Music Sweet, Thriving just beyond Thy ken,
Where Devils sit Enthroned while Angels Bending,
To Touch Thy โhaviour, Transforming from Within.
For as the darkened night Peals Mornings Dawn,
And Thou dost Waken from perilous Dreams,
Avenues once walked in Certainty,
Falling in Shadows, now not what they seem.
Echoes Accusatory rake their icy hand,
And Twist Thy Judgment like a feeble Pawn.
Decisions based on subterfuge, misguided,
Taint Thy Character and Mask Thy Cerebral brawn.
Menace creeps on stealthy hooves like demonic sorcery,
Trapping to its Purpose all Thy Provocation,
While, Innocent of threat, Companions walking,
Forcing Thine Unselfish Abdication.
โTil Pain in moments most Diligently Guarded
Speaks into the Hush of mortal Sorrow,
Delving not the Flagrant Ruse to Ponder,
What Mysteries Shall Waken ‘pon the Morrow.
As An Afterthought: This is a Bit of a departure, to be sure. In explanation, (because I do realize this one needs some form of rationale) I Wanted it to be a bit “high-brow”, a bit contrived, a bit cryptic, because the Master Sleuth himself is, in my opinion, all these things. The archaic language was my method of translating this “high brow”, contrived attitude into a touch of snobbery and the Shakespearean flair easily made it cryptic. I hope this helps to shed some light….
~Morgan~
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Magnifying Glass Image found at: commons.wikimedia.org
Graveside Image found at: Sherlock BBC
BooknVolume 
I love this
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Thank you…in all honesty, so do I ๐ After I wrote it and re-read it, I was entirely amazed !
Blessing~
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‘Shattering Thy Ruse like Shards of Light’. very beautiful and powerful!
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Thank you so much! This one actually astonished me!
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Very nice! I really like this! ๐
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Thank You so very much ๐ Its quite a departure for a theme on Sherlock Holmes, to be sure. So glad (not to mention relieved!) that it brought a “smile” ๐
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very nice use of classical language…not my typical cup of tea,
but very lyrical and moving…
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Thank You Ever so ๐ Not exactly what one thinks of when thinking about Sherlock Holmes…but it flowed so I followed!
appreciated ๐
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Trying to encapsulate the mystique of Sherlock Holmes in a poem is a huge undertaking – and this is certainly a good attempt.
Like Brian, the classical language not exactly to my taste and I found it quite intrusive. I kept asking myself, “I bet Morgan doesn’t talk like this, so why write like this?” That said, there are some stirring images along the way.
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Bit of a departure, to be sure. in explanation, because I do realize it needs one (lol) I wanted it to be a bit “high-brow”, a bit contrived, a bit cryptic, because the Master Sleuth himself is all these things. The archaic language was my method of translating this high brow attitude into a touch of snobbery.
hopefully, that will help it make a bit more sense. Maybe I should create a disclaimer LOL ๐
thank you though, in all seriousness.
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I think Holmes and Sherlock would approve. Well done!
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Thank you Ever So!
May I ask…does the explanation at the end of the piece help? I only recently added it.
Many Thanks!
Blessings~
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It did help, it confirmed for me where you were going. Well done! ๐
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Thank you ๐
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Can’t say that I entirely “got” this, but I think, perhaps, that was your goal. The explanation at the end did help though. ๐
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A different approach to writing ~ I couldn’t quite follow because of the use of old classical English but I do appreciate the process notes ~
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Admittedly, its not an easy one. I wanted to challenge myself …and I guess as a result, any potential readers as well. I do appreciate the honest feedback from everyone though, which is why I selected this poem for OpenLink this week…because its so much the odd duckling.
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I have been smitten. Utterly.
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U Charmer ๐
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It takes a willing subject for a charm to have effect ๐
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It does!
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