The Author, Edith W. Darke

Mirror, Mirror�

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Do you have to tell it all?
Where do you get the glaring right
To make my clothes look just too tight?
I think I'm fine but I can see
You won't cooperate with me;
The way you let the shadows play
You'd think my hair was getting gray� -�
What's that, you say?� A double chin?
No, that's the way the light comes in;
If you persist in peering so
You'll confiscate my facial glow,
And then if you're not hanging straight
You'll tell me next I'm gaining weight;
I'm really quite upset with you
For giving this distorted view;
I hate you being smug and wise ~
O, look what's happened to my thighs!
I warn you now, O mirrored wall,
Since we're not on speaking terms at all,
If I look like this in my new jeans
You'll find yourself in smithereens!!

�1985, Edith W. Darke

Other poems by Edith published here are

Prayer

Wayward Heart

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�Website by Joan Sholl Francis, 1999 - 2003. Email: [email protected]