Hi Martin,
Sorry; nothing new for this thread this evening. Work has been complicated today and I ran out of time. However, here's another sonnet inspired by a Debussy prelude. It needs work, but it could be worse, maybe, lol.
Bruyères
Returning to Bruyères in 1910,
00some years before the Second World War rout,
he brought his drafting book and fine-nib pen
00in hopes to overcome his writing drought –
and this he did, upon vivacious streets
00all flanked by merry red-roofed shops and homes,
and by the castle, where astounding feats
00had been performed, as told in tunes and tomes;
his Muse sang sweetest, though, in town surrounds,
00in mountain woods with sunlight through the pines,
the calls of birds and deer his favourite sounds,
00enticing as the region's finest wines –
and Sylvie there, a girl he used to know,
he'd loved her 'til her death, so long ago.
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