227. Merely Players.

Stella was my friend Dorothy's younger sister and, at the time, of no account! (Sorry, Stella!) Now she writes to me on an equal (elderly) footing and she has come by the delicious surname 'Heritage' through marriage. The other day she sent me a copy of this long-forgotten photograph and she has stirred-up memories. Thank you Stella.

MERELY PLAYERS

So is it sixty years ago

 That we strutted on the stage

In another hemisphere and place,

 Another distant age?

The play was 'Idle Jack' I think;

 We were in the Village Hall.

And the fact that none of us could act

Didn't worry us at all!

We sang the hit songs of the day;

'Near You' I think was one.

And 'Anything You Can Do' comes to mind;

 Singing that was fun.

Here I am as Idle Jack,

 The Charlie Chaplin type;

I don't think the plot was up to much,

 Probably pure tripe!

Jean, on the left, was rather sweet;

 She became a Beauty Queen.

I've no idea where she went then;

 She just faded from my scene.

Dorothy, pleading on her knees,

 Had a family of seven

And now she's living out her days

 Idyllically in Devon.

Margaret, the wizard, looks quite dour

 But was really very pleasant.

She, too, lives in Australia,

 In Victoria, at present.

How did we see our futures then,

 When we were seventeen?

Are we all happy with our lot

 Thinking back to where we've been?

'Life is a stage' that's very true,

 And we are merely players.

Are we over-seen by Fate

As suggested by soothsayers?

Now that the play is nearly done

 And we're running out of time

Do you see your lives as opera,

 Or, like me, as pantomime?