The Revolving Playwright Poem by Thomas Golding

THE REVOLVING PLAYWRIGHT

Persona thrown upon the stage
The author waits
The outcome of creative hours
Another child of his mind
Which had more drama
In the gestation and delivery
Than the conception
As does all new life
Donor egos notwithstanding
Daydreaming shadows to life
Listening for the inner voice
False spirit or visitation
To be heard and seen
Before a jury of paying guests
The words no longer his
Holding the future in suspense
To rule it art or artifice
Will they understand?
Those rows of bland faces
The last minute changes
Six actors who were puppets
To give life to the lines
The strings now cut
It’s in their hands
All is ready as time permits
Awaiting the final call
A bell rings in the rear
The company her commitment
These are the worst moments
Any failure his but not alone
Yet it WILL be a success
The bell has stopped