Returning to a past abode
Where once, we did rehearse,
A concert for the Maycourt club,
To help increase their purse.
From our rep'toire, we sang a mix,
Some bright, to slow and soothing,
Reports flowed in from one and all
That it was truly moving.
Three dozen voices singing
Three hundred listening ear,
Saints marched at different paces,
We saw that look of fear.
Though 'plause, approving tributes,
Came forth from she who leads,
Indication, if required,
We listen to her pleads.
As usual, on the ivories,
The keys were made to sing,
By Sheila, with those "magic hands",
Though 'blue', they were turning.
While Carlos, with his natural flair
Of stories with their root,
Each song, presented he, with love,
He's really so astute.
So on the whole, 'twas awfully good,
We did complete our brief,
E'en with the hiccups we observed,
We finished with relief.