Stage poetry

Building the Stage

Mounds of nails, mountains of wood, a maze of gadgets scattered throughout the yard
Chopping, sawing, nailing, grinding with sounds of grunts and moans filling the air
Icky, sticky, all so very messy, glues and paints splashed here, there and everywhere
Father, sons and sometimes daughters too, in a frantic, full of panic, wondering what to do
Somehow manage, without too much damage, to construct stairs and chairs, rails and jails,
Lifts and cliffs, swings and other over-sized things
Not for themselves, but for the Bard and his friends
So they can escape his pages
To perform on stages
– R.C. Devlin