Comfort, humor, excitement, fun,

Cases and surprises lay behind the door

Marked with the numbers 221.

Sherlock and John

Breathe a sigh of relief

When the bronze B comes into view at the top of the stairs.

For better or for worse,

So do the fans,

Watching from their own houses.

A swirl of colors, odd yet pleasant together;

Green, bronze, yellow, red,

purple, blue, black, tan,

Greet you as you enter.

Organized chaos, smiley on the wall,

Harpoon guns and human skulls.

Nicotine patches and hidden cigarettes,

Jam laying by the hand inside the fridge.

Laughter and shouts,

Drug busts and cell phones,

Experiments found in the microwave.

"Not your house-keeper" landladies

And unneeded canes.

Clients and Telly,

Failed games of Cluedo.

Pictures and scandals,

Books, books galore!

Tea pots and bandages,

Hacked laptops, funny hats.

The Union Jack pillow,

Bad dates led to the door.

Suit jackets and jeans,

Stolen Yarder IDs.

Blogging and Mind Palaces,

Crimes solved in a breath.

Explosions and grins,

Trench coats and jumpers.

Clarinets and violins

At three in the morning.

Three little numerals and a capital letter,

Cut out of bronze and bolted to green.

That's what spells "Home"

When you choose Baker Street,

221B.