Old Vic

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Old Vic


Once these doors close

The lights are dimmed

They may never open again


The soft ghosts of actors

Fading in our memory

Leaving only distant echoes


The bright gaudy costumes

The greasepaint and powders

All left where they last fell


The empty seats collect dust

The stage becomes a mausoleum

Of tragedy and comedy


Pennies draining from the coffers

Every day the pot empties

There are no resurrections here


These ancient eyes close

To sleep perchance to dream

Of better days ahead


Old Vic is hardly breathing

Choked of life enhancing atmosphere

The curtains are drawing closed

day95old victheatredemiseclosure threatcovid-19prolonged closure

◄ Needles & Thread

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Ian Whiteley

Sun 5th Jul 2020 12:32

cheers Po - thanks for commenting mate - glad you liked it - and thanx everyone for the 'likes' I appreciate your kindness ?

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