Instruments wake up,
audible whispers and stirrings.
Louder chitter chatter.
Listening and talking.
Cooperating and conversing
before the show begins.
wake and excite me,
promising musical adventure
wrapped in a harmonious, melodious
mish mash of musical mumblings.
My Fair Lady
I am ready for
My Fair Lady.
At the bus stop while
waiting for the bus
a lady smiled at me and asked
aren’t you a musician?
I think I met you once before.
Haven’t you sung at Carnegie Hall?
Haven’t you been to London and Rome
singing at amazing places and then returning home?
I answered ‘I am only me’.
I have just been very lucky.
I was at the right place at the right time.
Someone else deserves all the credit.
He put all the work and the effort into it.
He helped write the music with two other people.
and went across to Europe to make
sure we could do it.
The lady said ‘I remember you.
I was so impressed with how you spoke.
We were waiting for a bus in Berwick,
you, myself and two other ladies.
You were full of enthusiasm for your music.
But I did not get your name and then you were gone.
I answered ‘if you love singing, ‘
come and join us.
Come sing with me and my friends.
I have a new poem which is called ‘Choir, a spread of joy’. Here it is. Hope you like it.
Not many people know of this
but there is a spread
set way up high
on the tallest shelf.
If you asked a sales person
to bring it down
you would see it for yourself.
that this spread is
the best spread the world will ever see
full of richness and flavour and
All types of people come together to make a choir,
song unites us together
and differences make us unique
we leave our trouble at the door
grab our music and stand up on our feet
‘All Eyes on Conductor’ as he blends us into one
until we are smoooooooooth
like melted chococolate spreading outward
in an icky, sticky goo.
This goo is made with love
as we all love to sing,
it is made with tolerance,
we are all the same under our skin,
it is made with patience
lots of work required to get the song right,
the spread is poured into bottles
and the lid is screwn down tight.
I hope this spread is shipped
throughout the world
I hope this spread goes to places
where love and understanding is required
and sharp stones are hurled
For the Choir spread ingredients
are social inclusion and love
if you ever experience it
life will not be as rough
The show must go on
but then it ends.
The show is the time
when we can show what
we can do with our friends.
In a blink it is over.
All the weeks of practice
ending with a bow.
Onward and upward,
we will learn how.
New songs to learn
new tricks to remember
but what I remember and
love the most
is at rehearsal when
Rehearsal is the time
we learn not just the notes
but to sing with our friends.
Listening and appreciating
each voice in each seat.
A friendly chat and a cup of tea.
I love to collect all the cups at the end.
It is my way of saying
‘I love singing with you my friend’.
Fear and focus
maybe two words
to energise us for a performance.
Friendship and fun are
what we perform for.
When I don’t get the tingles anymore when I hear music that
resonates in me I will stop singing.
I sang Sing with
My voice hovered overhead
and joined my sisters and brothers.
When a choir sings love is expressed.
Love for singing and music
Our voices express the love we feel.
for the freedom of song and
our friendships that form when we sing.
That thought was so beautiful
my song got stuck on my face
and my cheeks got wet.
Queen’s Birthday weekend
rehearsing and performing.
Many cups of tea.
Many bowls of soup.
Three nights spent on stage.
Tobias and the Angel,
Choral Show and
Zadoc the Priest.
The wonderful, exhilarating,
roller coaster ride
has left me with many
Lately I have been coming back to the same question.
What do I want from singing?
Do I want to be a big star?
Do I want to make big bucks
and be driven in a limousine car.
Well I wouldn’t say no to those sorts of things.
Pearl necklaces and diamond rings.
But living in the lap of luxury would not
keep me happy for long.
Audiences may fill venues
and listen to my songs
but I don’t think that would
make me happy for always.
I can live without compliments.
I can live without praise.
I sing to go to another place.
Somewhere where I am me with a smile on my face.
If I could pass on that happiness to someone else
so they too would understand,
I would have achieved
something before I leave this lonely land.
As the day gets darker
I go to the hairdresser.
Thinking of colour
I open the door and enter.
Maybe emerald or azure.
I want a bright colour.
I discuss this with Catherine as I am not sure.
She sits listening quietly to what I desire
and goes and get the colour.
‘My dear blue is not what you require.
It will make your hair brittle I am sure.
Your hair has settled into a lovely colour.
I suggest you opt for a lovely rose couture.
It is quite on trend and it will be much better
for conditioning your hair.
I will trust my hairdresser.
Literally in her hands I place my hair.
Catherine gets her paints as I wait on my chair.
Car lights zoom past faster and faster.
They are still looking for a good hairdresser.