As I gaze into the mirror, who's reflection do I see
A face with lines and greying hair, how could that now be me.
Where is that pretty little girl with cheeks of rosy red,
And big brown eyes and ringlet curls, with bows tied on her head.
I see her face of innocence, her childish laughter gay
I see her running wildly round, her squeals in fun and play.
The fresh face of this child I yearn, the sparkle in her eyes
Instead I see the tired lines, this mirror tells no lies.
I look again and there she is, this time a bit more grown
This teenage girl with hair now bobbed, and style that is her own.
I want her back those years reclaim, her face of no regret
The freshness of her youth be mine, the clock now do reset.
A few years on a woman now, with youth still on her face
With long dark hair and ruby lips, has elegance and grace.
The stress of life has not begun to mask her pretty looks
Perhaps it's her that I should seek, before I close the books.
Each day the mirror tells it's tale, the years have quickly passed
Although I try I cannot stop my youth from fading fast.
Some days into this looking glass, I hardly recognise
That woman me with saggy jaw, and crows feet round my eyes.
I wonder when the time may come, that girl I'll never see
And only in my mind will I still know that she is me.
For one thing that is certain, we cannot stop our age
Our lives are always written down, our face is just a page
Christine. 16/8/2009.
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Author Notes
I wrote then when I was 56 reflecting on the ageing process a bit sad at my fading youth
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Thank you to photobeat for the image " the true image"
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