My Stories Are What Helps This Poet Sing

Once heard a lady sing opera one day And thought “Boy I wish I could sing that way” I joined a church choir, and sang my heart out But my high notes sounded more like a shout! I saw a gymnast do a summer sault And saw an athlete perform a great vault In my own mind thought, “I could do that” Alas, can’t be done with two left feet, Drat! So I sat down, thought, “Perhaps I can write” And I thought and thought well into the night Just sitting is what I manage quite well No songs, no muscles, but stories to tell. Of when I once fell out of a tall tree Or when the choir master set me free Or when the doctor set my broken arm Or when my burnt toast set off an alarm! Recalling memories from now and then I’m happy to sit in my chair with a pen Though physical talents I cannot bring My stories are what helps this poet sing!