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The Stage - A poem


Well-Known Member
The Stage

Evanescent the scene appears before us
Vistas on backdrops fading further into distance
Recalling differently the same scene
The same locale from a different time
Viewed as through the prism of memory
But as real before us as the characters we see
Standing and moving talking to us
Robed in styles of the time brilliantly colored
Silks and brocades gowns and tunics
Or perhaps worsteds and silks suits and dresses,
Scenes emotions recalled as if from our lives
Laughter and tears behind our composéd faces.
Our lives' recollections like plays we've seen,
Indistinguishable evanescent fading gone.



Well-Known Member
Peder, I'm not much for poetry but I really enjoyed reading that. Sincerely.

Excellent Peder! I enjoyed this very much.

753C, DATo,

I can hardly express how pleased I am that you both enjoyed the poem, especially as it strikes me as rather difficult. I had posted it with rather faint hope, but the fact that you have taken the time to read it, and like it (!), absolutely fills my day with joy.
Many many thanks for taking the time to read it and express your appreciation.
Most sincerely