Fallen diva

Perched in a peacock pose
feather fascinator,  the net in holes
gin bottles in her line of sight
the tonic lost in her hidden plight
 
The darken end of fame exposed
stage make up the cracks and flaws
the mascara like black lace daubed  
mirror reflects the self absorbed
 
If she could order a round of applause
the effervescence of yesterdays clothes
time with its passing shows all your warts
again the highball that drew the encore
 
Eloquence that her fingers speak
a beckon scripted in endless repeats
cost of that old fashion tipple  
champagne ego its bubbles  so fickle  
 
But i would like to toast an ageing poster
the Broadway star now just a ghost "her"
an anecdote her life condensed
 flickering diva, bar flys, decent