Once upon a time

There was a wannabe folksinger

With a high soprano voice

She struggled with guitar

But really, much too busy to practice

So she wrote tuneless songs

Calling them poems

And became a wannabe poet

Over the next few years

Soprano worked well for

Joan, Joni,

But what the wannabe folksinger

Morphed into

Was a wannabe blues singer

Like Nina

Or Janis

(Who is mezzo-soprano but

Rasps with the best of the contraltos)

Yeah, she wanted to sound raunchy

Not prissy

Although some soprano singers

Would take exception to that adjective

(Correctly, I’d have to admit)

Yeah, she wanted to wail

Because poetry is powerful

But music, to the wannabe,

Breathes life into the words

Especially when the voice

Is gritty, pained, down and dirty

That is life as she knows it

And soprano doesn’t do it

At least to her ears

And to her nerve endings

And to her heart…

© 2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: music.beasily.com


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