VINTAGE HAM
by John T. Baker
I well recall my life on stage
And in my reminiscing
I realize that something now
Somehow is sadly missing.

I'll not forget those Opening Nights
When just before the curtain
My jangling nerves kept warning me
I'd lost my lines for certain.

I still can feel the butterflies
That raced around inside me
As petrified I prayed to God
For clues and cues to guide me.

And all the while I'd curse show biz
And vow anew to quit it;
And once again I'd ask myself
Just why the hell I did it.

And yet despite the agony
And mental perturbation
I must confess I've not since felt
Such sheer exhilaration.

The footlights cast a magic spell,
An ambiance harmonic;
A wondrous world held out its arms -
My kingdom histrionic.

But now no more will I perform . . .
You may as well unmask me;
Another play? . . . No way, Jose! . . .
Unless, of course, they ask me!