Now I remember whence the impulse for a shrunken sonnet competition came. Before taking Holy Orders and emerging as LdP I was ragamuffin Barrett Bonden, blogging about technology. I noticed other bloggers (Lucy, Plutarch, Marja-Leena) were as justifiably proud of their photos as of the stuff they wrote. I invited each to provide details of their camera.
Et voila! I cobbled their answers to create a post which I hadn’t needed to write. A vista of easy-come, easy-go posts opened up as I envisaged a blog written by others, for which I would take credit.
This easeful project failed. Whereas each was prepared to go on (to excess) about their beloved Leica none cared to extend coverage to BSW screws, washing machines, car gearboxes and valve characteristic curves that typified the BB canon.
In musical terms the sonnet comp is a valedictory coda to that blissful expectation. Here’s my bit of dehydration. The rules allowed a title which didn’t count towards the total.
LdP. Blonde angels (probably in fur coats) bid
tearful goodbye to the man who understood
their needs and enhanced their glory. 71 words
Defunct in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Strauss,
Who gave sopranos lux aeternitas,
Stared upwards at vainglorious gloss
Illuminating coifs of misted brass.
Mourning, they’d mobilised their plangency
To venerate his open-hearted art,
Of launching vocal lines seductively,
Enthroning women’s souls in worlds apart.
Progenitor of Rosenkavalier,
Immured below this buxom wall of grief,
This proudful expert German puppeteer
Received a letzte Lied for his relief.
In metamorphosed words, liquidity
Bore Richard’s coffin to eternity.