Sonnet (To an Actress)
by John Steele
I have glimpsed Heaven in a glass of wine
Been awed by Tempest's thunderous rage
But neither, or anything, have I seen to compare
To the presence of....an actress, upon the stage
For sometimes, when she's acting, and the light's 'just right'
I hear Father Time take an inward breath
And all the world stops....as if to watch
And Shakespeare curses his untimely death
Thathe were here andI were dead
So he might clothe her beauteous lips with 'as beautiful' words
Instead of the rags that clothe them now
Like a summer's lawn covered with dead birds
And yet, I avow that nothing could detract
From the way she looks; and sounds; (and acts).
Copyright The Bentilean, 1990, 1999
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