Pure

Act 1

Red curtains raised resplendent
to visions of life before.
A couple met their stage was set
Pianos play love’s overture.
“My love will last forever.”
“And you’re the one I adore!”
A promise made a kiss exchanged
“Be together ever more!”
When we were so pure.
Oh! When we were so pure!

Act 2

Red curtains raised romantic.
Fling wide the church’s front door.
She’s dressed in white, he’s her delight
and red roses carpet the floor!
The organist plays allegretto,
the drummer times one, two, three four.
“Hand in hand, always we’ll stand!”
The crowd are beginning to roar!
When we were so pure.
Oh! When we were so pure!

Act 3

Red curtains raised reluctant.
We dropped the masks we once wore.
Eyes sting still trying to find her
from old photo of her that she tore.
On and on he’s still walking
on feet all bloody and sore.
Violin’s maestoso melancholic
and it cuts him to the core.
Asks the director: “My motivation?”
“Remember when we were pure?”
“Oh! When we were so pure.”

Act 4

Red curtains raised redundant.
Stage empty, crowd cries they abhor.
And the props are mostly broken,
scenery we just can’t restore.
The coda comes in uninvited,
played on a two-headed samphor.
Still the cast cannot be sighted.
Some leave, others cry out encore!
When we were so pure!
Oh! When we were so pure.

Copyright © 2015 Philip Craddock. All rights reserved.

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