Requesting poems about Sherlock Holmes

"Reading the Bible"

Under the arrogant light

The breaking sound of the sun is clearly audible

Holmes revealed his warm face Smiling faces

Rising from the paper

Hovering in our minds

The pure white time has become scarce

And you Reading, reading, reading

So great, yet so melancholy

Stop it, have you ever remembered that short trip to London

It’s already been another An unnecessary savings

When the moon emits a strong musty smell

My friend

Do not fall asleep or feel tired

Please put your reason in your pocket

Look, the god in Osaka is still tired

Holmes’ wine has already been filled

Invite you to have a drink and meet each other

The snow outside the window has passed

And you will sink into the past

Intoxicated in the Bible

Sherlock Holmes

Our puzzle has not yet arrived

To trigger a burst of laughter from the male protagonist

The only clear person in this foggy city

Addicted to cocaine, never read Mrs. Browning

"This is dangerous," Professor Moriarty instigated

He was gentle and like a wise man

But it’s more vulgar than a novel

We all know this is a dangerous confrontation

The Bachelor’s Violin from 221 Baker Street

The secret of a group of little dancing people

The notes of the setting sun need to be more delicate

Next is the meticulous collection in the gloom

Then, the tobacco shreds in the Persian slippers are still There

Watson and Mrs. Hegson are still there

As we all wish

The towering forehead was resettled in front of the fireplace

One night in 1895 we were destined to be whipped with horsewhips

Everyone has a sinister appearance that makes him beloved

All the citizens of London are grateful to Sherlock Holmes

Irene Adler does not love

3. Agatha with blond hair and blue eyes sparkling with innocence

Shylock with black hair has gray eyes Hanging with sadness

Blonde-haired Agatha sitting in the grass covered with daisies

Waiting and waiting

Waiting for a black-haired Sherlock

Send a flower like a knight

A flower with a slight smile

Agatha with golden hair plays with her soft curls

Smiling and smiling

Waiting for a black-haired Sherlock

The sun sprinkled the countryside

The breeze rustled the leaves of the elm trees

p>

A light and fluttering figure

Describes the flying daisy

Handling a daisy that fell to the ground

Fragrant and fluttering< /p>

I don’t know if it’s the daisies or the white shirt

The golden-haired Agatha sat in the thick shadow of the elm tree

Crying

Waiting for the black-haired Sherlock

Whether his gray eyes are staring coldly

or his long back is determined to turn around

As long as the golden-haired Agatha That gorgeous flower

That flower that flower

The flower you love

The highest belief in God’s mercy

It's all in these flowers

Golden-haired Agatha

Waiting for a black-haired Sherlock

May he send it like a knight Come to a plucked flower

Wait stubbornly and hopelessly

Wait for a flower

4. The alley was sunny in December in 1983< /p>

Chapter 7 of Night

The typewriter continues to push

The next line is closer to the truth

The mist of the briar pipe drifts towards the withered The tree

Silently crying to me

The circular square next to Baker Street

On the arm of the knight in armor (pronounced bèi)

Kite (pronounced yuān) The tail flower's badge shimmers

The sound of the driverless carriage

A late-night visit

Evil under the moonlight of Victoria

The bloody opening

The disappearing pistol, the charred cane, the melted wax statue

Who is not present? The illusion of the symbols on the jewelry box

Contradictions lead to the dead end he piled up

The evidence was perfectly buried

The corners of the mouth that mocked Scotland Yard were raised

Female voice: If evil is a gorgeous and cruel music

( Then justice is a deep and helpless melancholy)

Female voice: I will write its ending with my own hands

(Then I will light up the glimmer of light in the ashes)

< p>Female voice: The light wind of morning light dries the last line of sadness

(Then the raindrops will wash away the high walls of darkness)

Female voice: Black ink dyes tranquility

< p>(The lights are turned off and the red curtain is lowered)

Facts can only pass through the soil without footprints

The subtle floral fragrance and the clothing that are deliberately conspicuous

Everyone wears a mask and lies for different reasons

There is only one motive called desire

Who can really avoid being stained after crossing the swamp of human nature

< p>We can forget and forgive

But we must know the truth

The iron bed that has been moved

The last piece of the picture is finally put together

I heard the expected sound of soft leather heels

He opened the door and the night breeze shook the kerosene lamp for a while

The typewriter stopped at the name of the murderer and I turned around

The night sky in Westminster Abbey begins to boil

Beautiful death blossoms in the chest

I taste this last bite of sweet truth

Smiling and recalling that justice is only done quietly< /p>

Fiddle in the Thames

Female voice: If evil were a gorgeous and cruel movement

(Footsteps expected soft leather heels)

(He Opening the door, the evening breeze shook the kerosene lamp for a while)

Female voice: I will write its ending with my own hand

(The typewriter stopped at the name of the murderer and I turned around)

< p>(The night sky at Westminster Abbey begins to boil)

Black ink dyes tranquility

If evil is a gorgeous and cruel movement

I will personally handle its ending Write

The light wind of morning light dries the last line of sadness

The black ink dyes you tranquility