Mirror, Mirror…

poems, poetry, the sandbox writing challenge, Uncategorized, verse, , , , , ,

This Week, Calen again invites us to revisit her sandbox. She asks:

“You find yourself in a quiet room looking at your reflection in this beautiful old mirror. What do you see? Is there anything in particular you like about yourself? Is there anything you don’t like? Tell us about it.”

Here is my response:

I’m not bad for my age, though my skin’s become saggy,
the creases have deepened, my eyes got more baggy,
while my skin is quite clear and and my hair is okay –
it’s pleasing to see that there’s not too much grey.

But just two little details are getting me down;
when my face is relaxed, I’m wearing a frown
and I’ve suddenly noticed that each time I smile,
my reflection glares back with a vague hint of bile.

As I gaze at my image I realise
either me or the mirror is telling lies.

.

Written for Calen’s Sandbox Challenge – Exercise 1, which offers you a fun way to get to know yourself .

©Jane Paterson Basil

27 thoughts on “Mirror, Mirror…”

          1. Sorry for that … I read your posts. Bummer! Life’s a beach? We are born, live, then die. “Just like that”, as Tommy Cooper would say. While alive our ego tells us, we will live forever? Without being maudlin. Over and over, I find myself being reminded.
            Keep the pecker up! Though you may find that difficult? Cheers Jamie

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              1. Seriously, dealing with a death. For children can be hard, for it seems so permanent. When I was about 7 years old, my grandmother went to the US for a year to stay with her children on this continent. It was a big deal. We all went to the airport. To see her off. The next day, i was always the first up. It was my job to set the table for breakfast. Doing it, I burst into tears and could not stop. Mom even let me stay off of school, that day. Rationally I knew she had just gone away and would be back but it was my first experience of death, or whatever. Like others, I always get teary-eyed from deaths of people I knew but in my heart; I know they are still there, somewhere. Good luck! Cheers Jamie

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                1. Laura’s almost 32 and Paul is 30. Their grief is quiet, but intense. I remember their first serious loss – almost 22 years ago, their sister’s partner died, aged 19. He was like a brother to them. It was hard for a long time, especially for Paul. I thought he’d never get over it. Even three years later, I’d sometimes go into his room to find him crying. Since then, he’s suffered much more loss than he should have. I think that was the root of his addiction, but he’s clean now, and getting stronger all the time.

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  5. Pingback: Sandbox Writing Challenge 2018 — Exercise 1 | Impromptu Promptlings

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