Christmas Poems: The Lost Voice© Poem by Roann Mendriq

T'was a week before Christmas, a time to rejoice,
when our leading soprano, lost her sweet voice...

She gargled salt water, six times each hour,
till her face was quite pinched, salty and sour.

She chewed chunks of black gaulnut, bitter and vile,
till her teeth turned dark yellow, like an old crocodile.

She rested her voice, she shut it for days,
(Wonder of wonders...won't cease to amaze!)

But t'was all done in vain, the poor girl was a mess,
Like DarthVader she rasped, I have to confess.

The choir committee, called for a meeting,
full of joyful discussion, and plenty of eating.

When the cakes had but vanished, when each sandwich was gone,
When each disappearing doughnut dispelled like the dawn,

Then, we arrived at a decision, with the saddest distaste,
our leading soprano would have to be... replaced.

Our decision was greeted, with a thundering silence,
Our good conductor expected, some terrible violence...

He shuddered and started, the process of choosing
a new leading soprano, which was rather amusing...

For our leading soprano, found her voice in a trice,
in a matter of seconds, if you must be precise.

T'was the shock that had healed her, it gave her a jolt,
Her vocal cords snapped back, like a quick thunderbolt.

And the lot of us felt, rather blessedly Biblical,
to witness this tremendous, Christmassy miracle.

We sprang to position, and sang out our hearts,
her voice rasping and warbling, in faint fits and starts.
©