A homage to Shakespeare, the man we admire
To perform all his plays this Company aspire.
Its Much Ado about Nothing, some less cultured could say
Let them learn the lines and perform without pay
It's old fashioned, they murmur, well I don’t agree
It's politics & murder and of course treachery
We read all about it each day in the news
So it's quite up to date, whatever their views

So it's not As You Like It
The play turned into a scream
We’re performing a nightmare
Not a Midsummer Night’s Dream.

The audition's a problem you face up to with pain
But you keep going back again and again
The result is the Tempest when you find you’re not lucky
‘Your reading was rubbish I am afraid ducky!’

At rehearsals some ladies throw a strop or a shoe
The director makes sure that there’s Taming of the Shrew
Some actors are precious and drive everyone nuts
Whilst we want to get to the pub ‘fore it shuts
‘What motivation? Who cares? That’s no pleasure
The pub’s where we get our Measure for Measure

The costumes can turn us all into a moaner
That cod’s piece was worn by Two Gents from Verona
It's second hand goods, it's well worn, wash day grey
You can find something else and throw that thing away.

The male lead thinks he is a bit of Othello
But without all the make up he looks rather mellow.
Pericles was acclaimed as the great Prince of Tyre
Macbeth saw a dagger when about to expire
But its All’s Well That Ends Well on the opening night
When the performance goes well and no one’s stabbed in the fight.

Anthony & Cleo have gone up the Nile
Well just to the green room to rest for a while
‘Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears’
Well at least until Julius Caesar appears.

In Romeo & Juliet you find out unplanned
Your love interest is someone you really can’t stand
So you act best you can and try not to sneer
As your opposite number does a King Lear.

It’s a Comedy of Errors when things don’t go right
With set, props and costumes on opening night.

Then there’s the Ham let him take the stage
If he’s not up the front he flies into a rage.

The open air dramas we find to our cost
Get rained off sometimes, so it's Love's Labour’s Lost
And if it is freezing, we visibly pale
To think that our drama is a Winter’s Tale.

The learned amongst us know the Histories by heart
The Wars of the Roses has many a good part
Not much for women though - can you parlez in France?
Or weep over dead bodies? Well, it’s the final act’s dance.

Now most of the runs are only a few days
No Twelfth Nights for us, because nobody pays
The debate over ticket costs won’t go away
Those Titus Andronicus, don’t want to pay.

At least our play’s worthy, no ‘anyone for tennis?’
Where’s our pound of flesh
Like the Merchant of Venice.( Well Shylock!)

Some actors are good and some they are heinous
And some need a kick up the Coriolanus
(Apologies to Cole Porter)

We don’t act before Royals
Our Queen’s in the play!
No Merry Wives of Windsor
To view us today!

At last, final curtain, the cast stand in a row
No clash of the Cymbelines, are heard as we go.
Then they call Timon, we lock all the doors
Pack up the scenery, high on applause.

‘What shall we do next, that we haven’t done?’
Troilus & Cressida’s good for a run!