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.
Whilst standing in a Withington bar. ‘The Old Man At Home’ Minding my own business... Doing my stuff, as a support worker Ordering a clients drink; taking him out for an evening meal.
The downbeat, downtrodden, joys of love. Once they spall-sparkled like the foxglove! But now descend like a beach ball… Pig’s balder, words choke in the hairball.
The night runs in fear of the dreamer As for he there is no night. For even though there is darkness in abundance He only need close his eyes to see there is light.
