An Actors' world is beyond the door of reality A room where dreams are played through artistry And many a one, yearns to be a part of its totality It savours all and still offers more To dream and hope on and on Leaving what we perceive as normality The players in this magical sphere Are stretched beyond their own imagination They play along to another's hopes and dreams And faster evermore they escape from the world as it seems Many lives past are expressed through the spirit of an actor To evoke, provoke, sometimes to fill us with laughter Catch the dream and we can see the story and its message skilfully conveyed to all Then on survive the lives and stories of those still here and those in the hereafter In this realm of the mimic of true life No repercussions advances to us dare For the players have us in the their sometimes deceitful yet mystical lair Yet all are endlessly seeking to see what further fancies still lie there The Actor fascinates, revered by all He has the key to that forbidden door Which taunts us ceaselessly to try for more We cannot forget or ever deny their call So from one world we are thrown into many We cannot but help to stare over the terrain We are intrigued and mesmerized beyond all blame To situations and stories we consign our name Is it the spirit of other lives past Which possesses an actors's birthright mask So often the player's life can be full of strife Because of their innate yearning To convey all that they feel into a stare, an action Or just to keep the words forever in our minds burning Could it be the sentiment of societies past and future dawnings which enables an actor to weave us to his web Still leaves us wanting for stories of lives unspoken Bated in anticipation of their charming words To breath their messages yet unsaid An Actor can reach into our minds and souls To tease and reveal, often to deceive Surprising all with abundant food for thought Until curiosity's deep and full bowl Overflows its brim with stories from days gone by And those yet to be conceived, linger here, now Through an instrument of telling So it is this we say, of our thespian friends Thank heaven, they are happy from their hearts To let us see beyond the secret door where present bends With the promise to taste their ceaseless imagination harks Through scenes not yet played gilded from their souls Ever inciting our senses and feelings through our shadow counterparts
Be Uplifted Through their gifted insightful means to fulfil our roles
Copyright Natasha Anne Kelleher circa 2000
Amended March 2024
All rights Reserved
