A talented fellow
Readily steadily
Tony the lecturer
signs up for operas
all over town
Tenor by register
smiley by character
polyglottology
wins him the crown!
Ms Mizzi
Busily buzzily
Stephanie playfully
ogled by chorusmen
enters the scene
She likes her german and
her Lucky Saint she’s our
uberintelligent
opera queen!
How lucky we are
Hollering thundering
joyfully boisterous
Alun the tenor has
stolen our heart
Talks about anything
beer is his element
pangenerosity
sets him apart
Gentleness
Tenderly tenderly
Sarah decidedly
touches the soul of the
people she meets
wonderful milliner
bookworm and luthier
sophisticatedly
altoes her tweets
Callas-ness
“Ladies and gentlemen
I’m Lilas Pastia
lord of the traffickers
bane of the law!”
Stella in character
stellar interpreter
extraordinarily
acted the foe
Delight
Utterly butterly
performing royalty
Carolyn Williamson
betters the shows
Irish vivacity
one-drink bibacity
delectability
is what she knows
Consistency
Γρηγορα γρηγορα
all but one opera
Lomas the Cretan has
sung at the Halls
Kate is political
contralto-lyrical
protoparticipant
of curtain calls
In response to my opera friend Tony Valsamidis, who sent me these instructions…
In traditional meter, the dactyl foot consists of a strong accent followed by two weaker stresses. Its counterpart in music is the waltz measure in 3-quarter time–you know, ONE-two-three, ONE-two-three, etc. It’s not often used contemporary poetry, with the exception of the genre termed “light verse.” In fact, it’s the basis of a comic verseform called the “double dactyl,” which was invented collaboratively by Anthony Hecht and Paul Pascal. Wickedly funny examples were collected in a 1967 volume titled =Jiggery-Pokery= compiled by Hecht and John Hollander. The rules: take a real or fictional personage whose name consists of two dactyls as your subject. Write two stanzas of four lines each, the first three consisting of two dactylic feet, the fourth line, one dactyl followed by one strongly stressed syllable. The fourth lines rhyme with each other, but no other rhymes are required. The poem’s first line consists of two semi-rhyming or rhyming dactyls, like “higgledy-piggledy,” “wishily-washily,” or “hippety-hoppety”. The second stanza must include one line that consists of a single word, in the rhythm of two dactyls. Not easy to manage all this, but fun when it clicks.
A week after the performance
I am very glad Carmen is over
I loved every minute of it
we sang it from cover to cover
we acted with vim and with wit
The lergy decided to vex us
but didn’t achieve our defeat
for Katie stepped up to direct us
we filled every night every seat
