A Mirror Within a Mirror
A mirror hang upon the wall
Within a frame of brass,
Edges moulds the leaves of fall
Around the silver glass.
I stretch my fingers touching
The cold hand that reach to mine,
A pen the fingers clutching
Moving in a unseen line.
Ink stains on my fingertips
Reflect, exact the same,
Words that form upon my lips
Repeated in the frame.
Your eyes are windows to your soul
A phrase I once heard said,
reflect in mirrors good or fowl
In which your heart is read.
But in this glass before my face
I see my eyes dark blue,
of my soul there is no trace
Nor of my heart a clue.
A mirror in a mirrors glass
Reflecting truth or lies?
Emotions in a frame of brass
Reflected In my eyes.
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