The Theatre

The theater echoes
the scenes been played
a thousand times the same.

A yellowing script lying there
alabaster walls sullied, 
cracked but, standing.
It's burgundy floor boards lie split,
the ebony wood stained by age.

And upon the stage
its trappings of the familiar.
Yet, in itself barren,
nothing to do but, wait.

How incredible, it too, must wait
For its puppets of plaster, wood and glass
to play the scene Yet, again.

November 14, 1970

Lady LaMythica

By Lady LaMythica, Linda A. Copp © All rights reserved World Wide
including but not limited to 1970-2015