The Good Conductor (For Dolo) © Poem by Roann Mendriq

The Good Conductor

T'was months before Christmas, and all through the cities,
there was a hustling and bustling in the choral committees;
'Oh! What shall we sing? Oh! What shall we wear?
Whatever shall we do, this year, with our hair? '

With a toss of his silken, velvety locks,
our good conductor grinned, and cried 'Lavender frocks! '
And so it was sorted! All finally done!
That time of the year, had finally begun!

Like sweet falling leaves, they trickled in slowly,
A large, motley crew, from tallest to lowly;
An ancient old man, with a heart of a child,
A pretty young thing, sweet and quite wild!

The sopranos sailed on tempestuous high Cs
The altos crooned low, in harmonic keys;
The tenors chimed in, like bells in a tower,
The basses boomed deep, with testosterone power.

And there at the piano, she played with the keys,
and tinkled and tonkled the sweet ivories;
Her fingers flew fast, like flashes of fire,
setting to time the incredible choir!

From andante they cruised, to a rigorous beat,
From a rousing crescendo, that fluttered each sheet
of their scores that they held, in their trembling fingers,
as their voices went soaring, like opera singers!

Each staccato sprung forth, like a jack in the box,
Each arpeggio flowed forth, like streams over rocks!
Accidentals galore, they warbled like birds,
Then back to the coda, in seconds and thirds!

They were tiring now, each voice in a flutter,
The weakest of them, had started to stutter;
Gasping for breath, one bent to his knees,
(I'm pretty darn sure, I heard somebody sneeze!)

Their faces turned ruddy, the girls went all pink,
They sang their hearts out, unable to think!
Their sheets were a blur, of musical notes,
as rich golden voices, spilled from their throats!

The ladies were fit, to faint into swoons,
but still they held on and carried their tunes;
The men, like old soldiers, sang with pure might,
though their hair began falling, and turning pure white.

Then, sweet rallentando, they paused to a stop,
as their eyeballs turned red, and started to pop;
And just as they felt, they were ready to drop,
the good conductor grinned, 'Again! From the top! '
©