Go Down Fighting!

The mirrors in our house are weird - they've started telling lies;
A stranger now looks back at me with crows feet round the eyes.
The looking glass reflects the face of someone past her prime,
Of someone who is losing in the running fight with Time.

The person in the mirror has a body `heading south'
And this remorseless light shows up the lines around the mouth.
I'm sure my hair is not as grey , my clothes are not as tight.
Oh come on, I can't kid myself, that's me in there alright.

Where have they gone, those years of youth I thought would last forever?
When did middle age arrive? Yes, Time is very clever
And sneaks along on slippered feet, unheralded, unseen;
Before you know, he's swallowed up the bright years in between.

With rueful resignation I no longer turn to see -
Wolfwhistles nowadays are meant for someone else, not me.
Yet deep inside I feel the same as I did in my youth;
The mirror cannot show that, so how can it show the truth?

`It's all an attitude of mind'; well what they say is right
And I'm determined that I won't go down without a fight.
I won't waste time with plaintive cries that life just isn't fair,
I'll slap on anti-wrinkle cream, put colour on my hair,

And then I'll buy stiletto heels and stockings sheer and black;
The dull and comfy shoes can stay right there upon the rack.
There's one thing I will never be - how fervently I've sworn -
A little, grey old lady dressed invisibly in fawn.

They're not crow's feet but laughter lines appearing on my face,
Small tokens of a happy life, and so let Time give chase.
He'll have a battle on his hands when running after me
For growing old disgracefully is what I aim to be.

Christine Mundy