Rose Miller

The Broadheath Players

 

It was the smell of greasepaint

In the green room

Before the mummer’s play

And the gloom

In the wings as we waited

‘Welcome or welcome not !’

Shall never be forgot

 

It was the noise of applause

As the curtain fell

On the village stage

And the smiles

Of relief as we bowed low

A gift of scenes and many layers

All walks and ages, merely players

It was seeing the pantomime

At five years old

Dogs with eyes like saucers

Guarding boxes, bold

And the old world slipped away

The magic of ‘The Tinderbox’

And the land of ‘Let’s Pretend’ unlocked

It was the taste of fantasy

Through coloured words

From a vivid script

Inspired direction

In three dimensions

That challenged thought and broke conventions

 

All of this and more

The array of artists

Gone before

And the pen is a baton

You must take up

‘Welcome or welcome not’

For those who make a difference

Shall never be forgot