From my book Only Yules & Verses available here:
Carol Singer, the carol singer
Practiced every night
To keep her voice in top-notch
trim,
So clear, so crisp and bright.
On Christmas Eve the gathered choir
Wished her solo well,
She took a breath but nothing came,
Not a decibel.
Carol Singer, the carol singer,
Hot lemon drinks and steam,
Lived through the nightmare
That should have been a dream.
She lost her voice and panic
struck,
So many lozenges to suck,
A singer without the vocal touch
Is frankly less than nothing much.
Carol Singer, the carol singer,
Next Christmas looks so bleak,
For will the virus strike again
And make her voice go weak.
Like all those oldie movies
In creaky
black and white,
Her only
option left could be
A mime of
Silent Night.
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