Shakespeare 400th

Tomorrow will be the 400^th anniversary of William Shakespeare’s death.

I thought I would get in early with my tribute to a writer who has given me so much pleasure over the years so many of my seventy six years. It seems odd to celebrate somebody’s death doesn’t it or is that just me? 

My husband does a wonderful mock impression of an actor giving a Shakespearian performance, but none the less, nine times out of ten, he will keep me company when I want to see one of the great man’s plays. I don’t really know why he comes with me because he is not a fan at all. How to really upset him is to go to a play and then realise it has been moved in another time or another place or even worse in modern dress when he will lean over to me and say in not quite a stage whisper; I hate it when they do that. For me, that just shows how marvellous his work was that it stands up so strongly in any age or style. 

I am sure that I have mentioned before that my old mum was an usherette at the Connaught theatre in Worthing when I was a child and I saw everything that was presented by Worthing Rep. Shakespeare in jeans and polo necked sweaters was accepted without question into my little world. Loved it all from a quite young age.

 

Thanks Will

 

If only he were still here and alive

And had the centuries survived,

I’d like to give the man a hug

See him give his beard a gentle tug.

I’d like shake the great man’s hand

For plays seen on evenings planned,

Tell the bard I’m filled with pleasure

Burned in my soul to forever treasure.

Thank you Will, your plays were great

Hook line and sinker, you sealed my fate,

From childhood I have been your fan

Did your mind make me what I am?

 

Incurable 

Once in the stalls seated I believe in magic

Play, opera, and the musical equally mixed

Then again, I love my Shakespeare tragic. 

House lights dim watching plush curtains rise

Addicted, stilled, expectant, transfixed

To the time when “Bravo” the audience cries. 

I am totally out of control to dramatic art

Tickets fall through the letter box stamp affixed

In awe of actors learning their words by heart 

A complete theatrical dyed in the wool fruit cake

I make no apologies, all shame by joy eclipsed

Boundless imagination takes art for art sake.