Monday, December 8, 2008

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.


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?


Winifred said...

That's a great poem to go with a great photo. Really enjoyed it.

Mari Meehan said...

Being born a Brit it has to be pantomime for you! Lol.

Anonymous said...

Re: rinklyrimes - lovely,lovely,lovely! I'm e-mailing both of Dorothy's
daughters to insist that they show their non-computing Mum, also
Stella, of course. Did I ever tell you that the two chunks of wood I
nailed up in the Guild Hall, to angle the floodlights correctly, are
still there sixty years on? Love and best wishes. Rob.

Kat said...

Lovely flashback poem. Your friends must've really enjoyed it.

And loved the excitement of your friend Anon from NY, remembering the two chunks of wood to adjust the flood light. So sweet of her.