‘Twas the last week of “Carol” and every last soul
Was in full show mentality, ready to roll.
They’d survived fifteen shows, only five more were left
And they certainly planned for the last to be best.
They were gathered on stage: the fruit vendors and merchants,
Poultry sellers and cobblers, housemaids and street urchins,
Here a laundress, a charwoman, stagecoach conductor,
There the odd undertaker or school-house instructor.
There were ghosts of the Past, Present, Future, and Marley
(With his chains you’d have thought he’d come in on a Harley)
The Fezziwigs, young Scrooge, and Tiny Tim, too,
With his parents, the Cratchits, and their lovely brood.
And the prototype Grinch, our own finest of Scrooges,
In this role he could range from King Lear to Three Stooges
There were sixty-four characters, twenty-six players
They’d pulled through on caffeine, chocolate, hugs, and some prayers.
They’d survived the late nights, backstage accidents, too,
Snowy weather and ice and a Scrooge-like review,
But their faces were glowing, their hearts were replete
Knowing well-meaning strangers would fill every seat!
Peace to every heart,
GXP
(AKA Amy Brooks)