Pillar Chiller

For Meg the annual choir-do turned out to be a killer:

Arriving late the one seat left was right behind a pillar,

Every year Meg came along to hear St. Mary’s choir

Singing bits from this and that, and snippets from ‘Messiah’.

The joy she gained from coming was to see the singers’ faces

And she’d fallen more than once for more than one amongst the bases.

The man who sang the solos was a stunner for his age

And Meg was sure he winked at her each time he turned the page.

The aging bass behind him was, for Meg, a shade too short,

Though she liked the twinkle in his eye and guessed he was a sport.

The baritone, right at the back, was great for eighty five.

To see them all in evening dress was what kept Meg alive.

How miserable it was for Meg to hear their dulcet tones

But only see, before her eyes, that stack of granite stones.

So ladies, if you’re keen to see St. Mary’s annual thriller

Arrive on time or else you’ll find you’re stuck behind a pillar.