Hmmm? [Sherlock hums, breaking out of his thoughts to look over at John. His mind catches up quickly and a small smile breaks over his lips.] I didn't suspect you would be a fan of poetry after reading your own.

[There is a definite, tiny tease in the words as he sets down his violin and moves onto the next item of business. He moves into the kitchen, gathering up various items while raising his voice to carry on the conversation.] Tell her we'll be needing a lunch. Something cold will do. I'll notify Lestrade, since he refuses to text when asking for favors.