She hangs there grand, on the wall,
She, the ultimate judge of 'em all,
I dread to go in front of her,
Lest she picks up all flaws I got,
I'm scared to face her,
But face her I must,
She is there, only for good,
Her verdict - a frown or nod.
As the world passes by me,
I faithfully reflect thee,
The flirty clouds and static green,
The birds that fly over me,
All streamed live like a movie,
Until a human throws a stone,
Ripples the mirror, so pristine.
Yes, sometimes the mirror seems to be a harsh judge. Perhaps harsher when we face our own insecurities.
ReplyDeletethanks @Mary
DeleteThis is so beautiful. The pristine mirror should never break. Awesome piece of poetry:)!!
ReplyDeletethanks for reading @Vandana
DeleteI like both of these. They read clearly and the photos are neat as well.
ReplyDeletethanks @Peggy...glad you liked them :-)
Deletereally nice
ReplyDeletemuch love...
thanks @Gillena ..xoxo
DeleteNice take on the prompt; I like the duplicity of your solution, much like the flesh vs. the reflection, reality vs. fantasy, truth vs. fiction.
ReplyDeletethanks @Glen :-)
DeleteMy mirror has nothing but smiles for you ... love the river reflection as mirror .. very nice.
ReplyDeletethank you @Helen
Deleteintriguing to write from the point of view of the mirror. Humans throw way too many stones.
ReplyDeleteyup indeed..
DeleteAfter a night of little sleep, I know that feeling of dread when passing a mirror!
ReplyDeleteoh yes... :-)
DeleteRipples the mirror.......... lovely lines.
ReplyDelete