If she sang the way she looked,
you might expect Kate Smith
singing "God Save The Queen."
That *** Pistol'***** did not
come out, more voice pixieish,
a song unknown. Words were
bleary but delish were notes.

Complete meaning lost,
her elfin aria enchanted us. Indeed
there were whispers, "What is it
she's singing?" Then shushes
from those already spun
in her spell. We drifted into
her Mother Goose downy lullaby.

Fattened by unexpected
mellow mouthwatering coos,
her taken audience drank it in
and from beginning to end
were somehow morphed into
fuzzy waddling fans.