The Gospel Singer
The atmosphere was smoky blue.
The singer’s voice was smoky too
When she picked up the microphone
she fascinated everyone.
Her frail form hid a mighty voice
you listened to. You had no choice.
A voice which made the rafters ring.
She certainly knew how to sing.
She sang without accompaniment.
Then she set up a precedent.
She softly crooned a gospel song
and took her audience along
Tough mobsters sat tears in their eyes
such was her power to hypnotise.
Cold killers who had made their bones
affected by her dulcet tones.
She sang as though she was possessed
without a break without a rest.
From nine o clock til near midnight
Then suddenly was gone from sight.
Nobody knew the singers name,
nobody knew from whence she came
Some believe she was a ghost,
an angel from the heavenly host.
But I don’t care I heard her sing
and to this day I proudly boast.
That I was there and listening
to an angel or a ghost.
I only know that she changed me
She altered my whole attitude
so now I live respectably.
Recalling her with gratitude