Nostalgia Mirror Poems

"When Silence Speaks" poetry contest.
Sponsor: Craig Cornish 
2nd Place. 
Date Submitted: 07/05/2024


the air conditioner soothing my heated skin
fire brick curtains with their red dyed orange...

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The beauty you see in me is a reflection of you ~ Rumi

Pouring forth from the light in her eyes, I see my heart spilling...

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At the dusk hours
   the porcelain on the tables
   sustains the nostalgia warm...

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Why do I forever need
to remind myself
to look beyond the mirror?

I’ll never find the old me
behind what’s faded and wilted.
It’s gone with the passing of...

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I gazed down from the water's side
To see a silver gleam
And standing staring looked and tried
To see beyond the stream.
The clearest water sparkling, pure,
Below me...

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Looking back, one thing comes clean-glass clear
you were always there for me subduing every fear.

I tried to do my duty, be a husband strong and...

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Driving ninety miles per hour
      down the freeway know as life;
   visions up ahead seem foggy, 
 ...

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The home nestled in the hue of the blue hills,
on the wall of my longing there hung a mirror,
opened my one way window on the...

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Must the antique mirror be re-silvered?
Its carved ornate gold frame be replaced?
Will its reflections disappear into some smoky haze?
Where Grandpa and his pipe smoke are...

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Visions in the Mirror

 

Morning comes, so up I get,

and rush to look in the mirror.

Remembering your tender grip,

as your arms gently hug me.

I hold...

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Looking in the mirror she whispered to herself
Where did you go
Once upon a time she used to be happy
Now stuck on this Plateau

Filled with whispers...

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A MOTH, A PORCH LIGHT, ALONE IN AN OPEN WINDOW---

Owning up to his shortfalls may be his most difficult task.
Tomorrow mirrors that reflection.
In thought, he...

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I'm sure this hill is where it stood.
Amazing shapes of stuccoed wood.
A glass-brick, neon stream-lined place.
As if it flew from outer space,

A swing band auditorium,
An...

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Sunshine shoots through the windows and fills the house with grace,
Ricochets around the room and finds my weathered face.

Standing at a mirror I see refracted...

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An ordinary rectangular wooden mirrored lid, paint-chipped and worn,
sits in my bathroom, the mirrored part having gotten spotted over time.
I often hold it up in...

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