The Iron Lady Poem by Peter Pacey

The Iron Lady



On polyethylene wheels
The Panavision locomotive
Slows to its carpet halt
A laser beam on gaffer marks the station.
Celluloid fuel chatters into the furnace lense
And something remarkable is happening
On the Aubusson plain.
The roped ghost of Mary Pickford
Frees herself from the rails
And rises, a silver halide wraith.
She looks behind her, sees her mark
And turning, now in close-up
Backs carefully and tactfully
Into the shimmering face of Meryl Streep.

31/4/2011

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Waiting for lights to be set I began to muse about the machinery.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
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Peter Pacey

Peter Pacey

Mansfield, Nottinghamshire
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