When I look in the mirror
I am generally disappointed.
In my mind’s eye
I envisage a colourful character,
rainbow-hued, vibrant, sparkling with light.
And then my critical eyes
find the silver streaks wiring through my hair
(which I had imagined to be luxurious
but my elephantine memory reminds me that
somebody once told me was thin and fine and somewhat limp)
and I add to that let-down the bags under my eyes
and the slightly receding chin
and the crooked front teeth
and the wide hips
and the thighs too sturdy for the skin-tight jeans I would love to wear
(the kind my younger, more svelte sister suits so well)
– and I am disappointed.
It’s a good job I don’t own a full-length mirror
and even better that I only see the top to toe me
when in the Ladies loos at work
and really, that doesn’t count, because it is only work.
I come to life after 6pm and at weekends
when my imagination runs riot.
And then, then, I am not disappointed.
No, I am not disappointed at all.
———-
Tonight, in dVerse Poetics, Grace introduces us to the juicily, vibrant art of Cheryl Kellar. Cheryl has kindly allowed us to use some of her art as inspiration for our work this evening – aren’t we lucky!Herbiography gives me heart and hope – she was a court reporter by day, her artist-soul hidden underneath the precise (and I imagine) serious demeanour required for such a responsible job. Please do rifle through her website and also her blog for joyous and uplifting art.
So, here’s my response to the glorious work above, which is actually titled ‘Oh, the stories she could tell’ – oh couldn’t we, couldn’t we all?! Please do pop along to the dVerse bar and see what the other twice-weekly drinkers (err, I mean poets!) have been up to!
Freya Writes... 