Alas, I have returned!

I have not been blogging for a while but you must forgive me for i have been overcoming sea monsters and dragons so do not think that i was slacking for i am better than you and my greatness reigns supreme: none of you can compare!!!!!! Do you like my Beowulf impersonation?
Anyway, to get to the point-back to the blogging. First concerning your question about what was affecting Doyle's life at the time...well basically he was very unsuccessful as an Ophthalmologist thus his resorting to other pastimes and thus Sherlock Holmes was born. Holmes is British, yes. Well, as we discussed in class, a lot of the values back then were not at all like our values today-Holmes took cocaine, to the detriment of his health, yes, and to the displeasure of Watson (being a doctor, no less) but Holmes himself was otherwise nonplussed by his unhealthy addiction. For the clues in the cases, we the readers are only clued-in as much as dear Dr. Watson is, and this is usually just enough information so we can NOT unravel the mystery on our own. However, i did once read a mystery by Doyle in the Holmes saga where the author (speaking through Watson of course) actually interluded (if that's a word) and told us that we had all the clues necessary to solve the conundrum- but i was unable to solve it.

and finally, my Villanelle.

Our Journey

Journey with me across the Land
And let us explore its every way
As, through the hourglass, falls the time - in sand.

The Lands roll by; see the Mountains so grand,
In the helm, notice the grandeur of the Hills as I say,
“Journey with me across the Land.”

As the Rivers travel together, so give me your hand,
And let us too travel together, and not bother to notice this day
As, through the hourglass, falls the time in – sand.

Cupid has surely waved a magic wand,
For I wish only that you, this day in May,
Journey with me across the Land.

It is now afoot; the moment is here today,
To travel a journey that will with us stay
As, through the hourglass, falls the time – in sand.

So wear on your finger this, our wedding band,
And so agree to, on this beautiful day,
Journey with me across the Land
As, through the hourglass, falls the time – in sand

And my Sestina...

Two men walk into a bar…

I was seated calmly by the bar
When it just so happened that two men
Walked into the room. They were curious,
This pair, for they entered the dim
Bar wearing the same clothes and the same heavy eyebrows.
Eyebrows were raised, as the reflections of the two jumped out from the mirror

That hang at the opposite end of the bar. The mirror,
All the way at the end of the bar,
Showed the two men’s similar eyebrows
As they raised them at one another, both men
Having noticed their similitude under the dim
Light of the bar. The men found each other curious.

It became more evident and I became more curious
As I noticed the reflection in the mirror;
That, though grave and looking dim
To my eye, by the mirror at the bar
The two figures of the men
Looked jovial and embraced each other’s similar eyebrows.

I gazed at the pair of heavy scrutinizing eyebrows
And then at the ones being embraced, and was curious
As to what caused the difference in the four similar men.
For the image in the truthful mirror
No longer held true to what, at the other end of the bar,
Was evident upon the two dim

Faces. And it just so happened under the dim
Light that the two men with the heavy eyebrows
Walked up to the same chair by the bar.
And the other two men found it curious,
As they watched from the amiable glass of the mirror,
That their alter egos dueled it out for a singular stool. The men

Had both taken a fancy to the chair and the other men
Watched as the others’ faces lost their little light with each blow, growing dim
And no longer bearing any semblance to the ones in the mirror.
And as one man tore the others’ eyebrows
Off, the men in the mirror were no longer curious
To find out what became of their unreasonable counterparts across the bar.

I sit here alone, at my own side of the bar,
Still wondering and still curious
As to why the two men’s eyebrows could not be like the ones in the mirror.

My original Sonnet. Enjoy...please.

These burd’some errands weigh down ’pon my soul,
And shackle me; I’m hardly self-reg’l’tory.
Not hard to see these chores on me their toll,
My face they rack with seams of foul ’mbroid’ry.
I sorely miss and wish I had more time:
She swims me by-I haven’t a hope or prayer.
I’m forced to drink this sour laborious lime
My cumb’some fetters drown me in despair.
But why do I still fight this ’nending strife
Of pain and bear my feet these shards of glass?
This too shall come to pass, is why, that’s life!
It shall o’er me this cup of suff’ring pass.
I must not be deceived my hope’s dead sick,
Her slumber’s caused by some mild sop’rific.