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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