First day of kid's choir practice,
carpet squares scattered on the floor,
the children squiggle and squawk until--
Miss Myra picks up the guitar.
Softly, softly, she strums and sings,
And twenty bodies all sit still.
They are singing now, clapping, patting.
They stand, they sit, they whisper.
Is it not magic to listen
to one woman charm small children?
Suddenly speaking briefly? Join us for Six Word Fridays at Making Things Up.