To Err Is Human ‘songstresses' Poem by Mark Heathcote

She's a contralto,
With high sustaining, notes
Her voice is a salvo,
O' the rapture, she emotes
Calling-on spicy, Bacchus...
In 'lightness' or 'heaviness'.

She specializes in control.
Like a skylark, circling at
Dawn's heartstring, cajole!
Her lips; heady, Muscat
Sing, their ritual, madness.
On this poor sap; Dionysus…

He fought with giant, Titans
The dramatic is the deepest.
Florid passages filled heaven,
His tears wept there; shrillest.
She was like a priestess
Or better still a princess.

O' she even sings alto,
Holding a spike of grain
O' she's the onset of Virgo'
And, his heart has been slain.
In 'lightness' or 'heaviness'
To err is human; ‘songstresses'.