Ladies Who Sing

Ladies Who Sing

The choir of lovely ladies
Formed a line to take their chairs
Dressed in black with yellow ‘kerchiefs,
They approached the stage in pairs

At the back were all the climbers,
Who could safely cope with height,
With the small ones in the front row,
As the space was rather tight

There were plenty of sopranos
Who could sing the notes in tune,
And rather fewer altos,
But their voices filled the room

And a lady in the corner,
Who had caused the group concern,
Whether she would ever manage to
Sing only When her turn

And the rather bossy Mary,
She told others what to do,
And dear Vera on the final seat,
As she might want the loo

And The ‘Master’ in his jacket,
Looking dapper as can be,
Pointing upwards with his baton,
Mouthing ‘Please all look at me’

Then, dear Julie, in the middle,
Who had begged to join the choir,
Though her pitch was somewhat challenged,
When she tried to sing much higher

They had struggled with the crotchets,
Juggled quavers and repeats,
Felt depressed at their slow progress,
In the last rehearsal meets

But the master tapped his baton,
Cast a glimpse towards the band,
And, as if they were one person,
The whole choir began to stand

Music sheets before them,
Eyes directed at their King,
He lifted up his baton and
The Choir began to sing

Music filled the rafters
With a mellow sound so clear
And as they reached their final notes,
The audience gave a cheer

Written by Claire Baldry