Singing voice

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They told me I couldn’t sing,

And how I could have cried.

What was I to do

With this joy all trapped inside?

But I did not forget,

And when I was old,

I started a singing group

Of my very own.

We sang carols by candlelight

In frosty Rossmere Park.

While fairy lights and torches

Were glowing in the dark.

Then came back to practice;

My talent was in doubt.

Still, I held the key

So they couldn’t throw me out.

Two wonderful years,

With my good old friends.

And I’m looking for a chance

To do it all again.

Mary Treveil,

Ardrossan Road,