image is from google: chichestercopyrighter.co.uk
All the World's a Stage,
with me bumbling
about on it,
like Ms Magoo,
tripping over my feet,
slapping myself
upside the head,
muttering to myself.
Curtains get stuck
on the draw-ropes,
opening and closing
at random moments,
dust thick
in the old theatre.
The audience
grows restless,
coughing,
shuffling their feet,
and rattling
their programs.
They are
waiting
for the magic
to begin.
Me, too!
It appears my first posting of this came out in what can only be described as blank verse: white strips of what should have been printed words, but werent. Which just underlines the trouble I have with performing, hee hee. If there's a way to screw it up, I'll find it.
