Her voice was darker than of old; Her hair lacked melody; Her feet at times were shrill and cold, And wandered from the key. Her gown was tuneful, sweet and low, Cut scherzo to the waist, With semi-quavers row on row In soft, melodious taste. Her gestures were inclined to flat, Regardless of their hue. Her trills were ambidextrous, fat And slightly tinged with blue. Her phrasing was a shade too brown, And though superbly placed, Her smile was loud enough to drown The roses at her waist. The programme was perhaps a bit Too blonde for her ambition -- Only one number scored a hit, And that was @3Intermission@1. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HUMAN LIFE by AUBREY THOMAS DE VERE ASPATIA'S SONG, FR. THE MAID'S TRAEGDY by JOHN FLETCHER THE WAY THROUGH THE WOODS by RUDYARD KIPLING NEW ENGLAND'S DEAD! by ISAAC MCLELLAN JR. SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 97 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |