Just for a Time

There’s something quite special, exciting, and clever

when people are gathered and singing together —

in churches and football grounds, boozers and schools,

and each Tuesday night in the local church hall.

It isn’t just music but a feeling you get,

with a room full of hearts that forgets to forget

what it means to belong, to be part of the strong —

if we trust in the choir, we’ll never go wrong.

The weeks have been building to one single night:

the hours of getting the phrasing just right,

the scribbled-in markings, the breathing, and diction,

the moments of joy, and the flashes of friction.

The music director has taught us all well,

and we’re eager to please her — we’re under her spell.

Our talented pianist will carry us through,

though a brow may be raised if we still miss that cue.

But here with the choir, through effort and grace,

lies the joy of belonging — a wonderful place.

No headliners posted, no star turns are shown —

it’s everyone bringing a part of their own.

The altos and tenors, sopranos and basses,

each giving their all but knowing their places.

And it’s not just the singers, but those who prepare

the music, the uniforms, the who-shall-stand-where.

In the pause before singing, a stillness descends —

a sense of connection that never quite ends.

And more than the notes, it’s the space that we make

for silence, for laughter, for poetry’s sake.

Then walking back home under warm summer sky,

with echoes of melody soaring on high —

something remains in the still evening air,

a chord full of meaning, of love and of care.

The curative pleasure of voices entwined,

and the world, for a moment, grows smaller and kind

.As working together in rhythm and rhyme,

we make something beautiful — just for a time.