Behind the Scenes: Empire
by Arthur Symons
[Author's note: this was Guardian poem of the week for GloPoWriMo Day 18.
I selected it at random, so as to take on the challenge.
Adjusting the prompt slightly, it also relates to the headline of the same day in that newspaper for contemporaneous reference]
"The little painted angels flit,
See, down the narrow staircase, where
The pink legs flicker over it!
Blonde, and bewigged, and winged with gold,
The shining creatures of the air
Troop sadly, shivering with cold.
The gusty gaslight shoots a thin
Sharp finger over cheeks and nose
Rouged to the colour of the rose.
All wigs and paint, they hurry in:
Then, bid their radiant moment be
The footlights’ immortality!"
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