2013 Poetry Theme Challenges

#03 The Mirror Lies

I have no doubt we all get that moment we look into the mirror and see what we really look like instead of how we see ourselves in our mind's eye. I often wonder just who that person with grey flecks in her hair staring back at me is. If you are anything like me there are even days you feel much older than you really are. So this theme challenge is about how we feel about getting older, what we do to stay looking that bit younger, what did we do to make ourselves look older back in the day or how old we feel in our minds.

Happy quilling to you all


The Mirror Lies

Terry Clitheroe



Youth Recalled
Zumba Rabiosa

Jem Farmer

Weight Watching Poets

Terry Clitheroe

Mirror of Senses: Sextilla Series

Terry Clitheroe


Mirrors are clouds that hide the truth
They tell lies because they cannot see
Nor do mirrors know what is of thee
What is of now and was once of youth
You see a picture in front of you
Which changes every time you view.

Look at a picture every ten years
Each time an older person appears
Different it appears inside the same
Inside there is still beauty and care
To one who is not in love this is rare
But realizes love is in no way a game!



Several times a day I pass by him
He looks familiar somehow
Someone time didn't disallow
The facial scars have now grown dim
Once athletic, no longer slim.

My father never got this far,
Or grand dads, I've raised the bar
I have done what I have wanted
And never ever been daunted
But not looking like a film star.

Yet the mirror still hasn't seen me
Inside I mostly feel thirty three
That silver hair is blond inside
A facade I have long denied
The outside, inside never agree.

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Divena Collins

Youth Recalled

I wish I was a woodland nymph
To dance naked through the trees
I would only have myself to please
And the royal harmonical symph
Carefree and so happy I shall be
When all shall forever recall me.

I wish that I could turn the tide
And alter the waves of the ocean
For such would be my devotion
To be a mermaid devoid of pride
For topless I shall swim the sea
And all shall forever recall me.

I wish I was Eve without Adam
And I think that he would know
I have more than him upon show
And shall never be titled Madam
So carefree and happy I shall be
But he may if he need recall me.


Zumba Rabiosa

C'mon everybody now lets get fit
Christmas is past it is time to fast
Think yourself slim come lets try it.

If you can Rumba that is great
Your are half way there already
Then you wont have long to wait.

Get into rhythm follow that beat
Dancing to the Zumba Rabiosa
Great fun to do and really neat.

Things will never again feel grim
You'll look and feel much better
And praise yourself for being slim.

Wriggle those hips waist and thighs
Zumba Rabiosa lets have some fun
You will shortly get down to size.

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Jem Farmer


If you could look beyond my smile
And see for just a little while
Beyond my flesh to inner pain
Where all is lost with naught to gain
The tortured soul always on trial.

If you could see what lies behind
The scars that can only remind
Of times to which I won't revert
Distractions called to stop the hurt
With visions of truth running blind.

My secrets held so deep inside
A soul so lost it had to hide
The truth of self, lay torn apart
And stone replaced my gentle heart
So no more angry tears were cried.

But then she came to hold my hand
With love a dream could not have planned
Her eyes looked beyond to see
The person that is really me
And I begin to understand.


Weight Watching Poets

Calories in everythin'
All add up to that fat or thin
You cannot eat that, you must eat this
A poet can rhyme that with a kiss
Are words therefore also a sin?

I wonder if I should cut
The endless cups of coffee but
I'd only drink my tea instead
I need caffeine to clear my head
To tighten up my lines somewhat.

A poet diets to shed those
Old clich├ęd words that oft disclose
Too much. Not enough is worse
It is a curse of written verse
Perhaps I should then write in prose.



Who is that woman I see here
Who she is seems very unclear
With her short hair feathered with grey
I see her stare at me each day
How did she thus come to appear?

L'Oreal it seems makes her go
The creams and dyes that gently blow
The webs of time away from me
Inside my head I'm thirty-three
Not that old bird I do not know.

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Terry Clitheroe

Mirror of the Senses

Sight: the First Sense

I see your reflection in the window
Do your eyes hide your sorrow?
Visual inquisition they do not admit,
And wonder, who is it really I see?
Without answers my mind isn't free
What do I see, what do you permit?

What thoughts hide behind your smile,
Surely your love of me isn't so fragile?
You turn to me two more mirrors,
And yet that love your eyes do admit.
Each time we meet we further commit.
Slowly windows change into doors

Sound: the Second Sense

I see your reflection in the window
No sound of your love, I wonder,
It does not speak, will not admit.
It turns to me, still with a smile
Not a sound from you to beguile,
What do I hear, what do you permit?

You know that triangle of words
If only your spirit could be heard.
Tell me you are willing to commit.
Endearing words will remove this fear
They're the only ones that I hold dear.
I wish I could hear them come from it.

Smell: the third sense

I see your reflection in the window
I sniff the air, but where is the odour?
That sweet fresh bouquet where is it
Clean, showered and freshly soaped
This reflection doesn't bring me hope
What do I sense, what do you permit?

This glass image has no fragrance
This is nothing without your presence
Where's the aroma that belongs to you?
There is non of loves pungency in it
How can this unscented image commit?
This is a non smelling image that I view!

Taste: the fourth sense

I see your reflection in the window
I ask, "What flavour does it endow
Am I allowed to savour any bit?
It does not make my tastebuds drool.
It looks so bland, food for a fool,
What will I taste, what do you permit?"

Of saltiness flavour, there is none
The flavoured loves juices are all gone
There is no finer taste I will admit.
Need I search for spice and cumin?
Than that of a fruity loving woman
If I taste you, will you commit?

Touch: the fifth sense

Your reflection in the window
How can I make its heart grow
Oh! Were it possible to touch it
How well I know your softness
With warm wet lips so soft to kiss
What do I touch, what do you permit?

No impostor's image that's before me
And your love that special joie de vie.
I feel trembling flesh willing to submit,
Holds your shape and your form
Soft and pliant so willing to conform,
Under my touch, I feel you commit.

Intuition: the sixth sense

I ask, "What lurks behind your smile
I know I'm the lover you wish to beguile
I see the love light that your soul emits?"
There is only one thing now I need to know
Are you my Juliet and I your Romeo?
No longer asking, "What do you permit?"

In a silent place I feel your soul
We know completion, we are whole
Now we have integrated our ego.
The physical world is another place.
The ideal model takes on your face
That reflection I saw, in the window

Soul: the seventh sense

The reflection I see in the window
I search my mind, I need to know
The past has gone but you remain
We are now closer to being whole
Is this an image of your soul?
Eternity has finally become our domain.

You turn to me, and offer your soul,
Because of the love we share, we are whole,
The window of love open to us both
No longer having any sorrows to hide.
As together through Eternity we abide
I see your reflection in the window.

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