 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 03-June 09:12:24 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 181460
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Magic Mirror
[time] => 2015-07-18 19:36:10
[hometext] => How wonderful it would be to see ourselves before Life had its way with us.
[bodytext] => A magic mirror of a morn, upon my wall did greet, my heavy lids of sleepy eyes like the dawning sun did upward creep. Opening slowly, “Hello day!”, in silent gaze my orbs did speak. Wide open now, sleep shaken, fled, in front of me I scarce believed what I saw on the wall from my rumpled bed. Still plain, still white ere' shuttered light of tungsten bulb to lunar glow, last night I swear the wall was bare, yet this morn a hanging mirror shown. With croaky voice, tinged in fear, “What is this?” my lips to dawn so spoke. “Did pranksters creep while deep in sleep dreaming lives I never lived? How came to be, to visit me, this glass while in repast?" Now full awake, feet on wood, dawn's chill forgotten as I stood, “Who is this? “ I asked the air, gazing long into the glass. But wait!, I knew this face! Strong, unstained, potential vast; Delight suffusing, breathless now, I looked upon myself of decades past. My hair so thick before the seasons that take as much as they provide, my crows feet gone, my ears so smooth, aged curly cues of hair not sprung, as yet unborn. And in my wonder, in my joy, my eyes soaking in the youthful boy, revelling in this vision sweet, I pinched my cheek (“Am I asleep?”), confirming sore I was no more in the land of sweet repose. My cheeks I see, juniper free, those blossoms yet to bloom, my nose in youth so delicate, now rose tinted hues of gloom. Then my eyes at last, with marvelled gasp found themselves attached, all four. Gone; nay, yet unborn within those orbs the joy and sorrow earned by lessons learned shown clear back at me unsoiled. With a tear for love of who once I was, and two for the me of now, both joy and sorrow's tears entwined, So I made to wipe them free; my old hand, scared with tales, my unblemished twin in tandem upward swept, but the mirror vanished when I blinked- in the dawn, the moment gone, to the empty wall I wept. [comments] => 6 [counter] => 314 [topic] => 40 [informant] => invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => fantasy )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com