okapi1895.livejournal.comTitle: I, Sir Arthur
Rating: Gen
Poetic Form: It started off a clerihew and grew longer.
Length: 174
Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIR ARTHUR!
I, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
would rather be boiled in a vat of hot oil
than have a true Renaissance vocation
reduced to him, that tiresome creation.
Why, oh, why is this world so remiss?
Won’t you recall who brought skiing to the Swiss?
And the war! Which? Why, the Boer!
You’d think that the world might
since it made me a knight.
What about bodybuilding? And Portsmouth United?
But do let’s forget when my cricket kit ignited
[Ball to matches in pocket. I went up like a rocket.]
I solved crimes! I wrote history!
I even went looking for Agatha Christie!
So many answers to so many calls,
save for those cottage girls and their damned paper dolls!
And, uh, that once I nearly poisoned myself.
Oh, why doesn’t Professor Challenger sit as proud on the shelf?
Oh, well. If you must
remember me thus
I suppose
I’ll lie in repose
he who created the world’s greatest sleuth, or so the world claims,
he who begat Sherlock Holmes
and his loyal chronicler
James.