He sang a tenor’s part-
No more a tenor really
Though aging cords may gamely try
It was disaster- nearly.
He lost the lyric line.
Poor fellow –must be blasted
Too much North Fork wine
Or maybe he’s just past it.
A singer lost for words
is clearly up against it.
A staircase that’s collapsing
can only be descended.
Some forty years or more have past
Since he sang at their Wedding
A rose cheeked boy with strong clear tones
He was, then, worth the hearing.
With time his talent vanishes
He cannot compensate
For lyrics he’s forgotten
And notes he cannot make.
His hopes to leave on a better note
Then disappeared completely,
Only a swan- at its last-
can be sure to sing more sweetly.
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 7:46 PM UTC
He sang a tenor’s part-
No more a tenor really
Though aging cords may gamely try
It was disaster- nearly.
He lost the lyric line.
Poor fellow –must be blasted
Too much North Fork wine
Or maybe he’s just past it.
A singer lost for words
is clearly up against it.
A staircase that’s collapsing
can only be descended.
Some forty years or more have past
Since he sang at their Wedding
A rose cheeked boy with strong clear tones
He was, then, worth the hearing.
With time his talent vanishes
He cannot compensate
For lyrics he’s forgotten
And notes he cannot make.
His hopes to leave on a better note
Then disappeared completely,
Only a swan- at its last-
can be sure to sing more sweetly.
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