Of Mirrors and Mexicans

by Dafydd Hughes Lewis, posted in Uncategorized

Upon Reflection

There is a touch of frost,
I see, among my curls.
So one would imagine that by now,
whatever gods there be
might have shown a little kindness,
and endowed me with a measure of integrity.
But they have not  – 
the churls. No… inwardly, I fear
I have not changed.

But outwardly…
Again, that winter-tinged,
that sullen gaze
stares out at me.
One thing, at least, is plain:
They don’t make mirrors
like they used to
in the good old days.


To be Gonzales

I never thought I’d see the day,
and Lord, I ask you why
I totter around the geraniums
while my grandson whizzes by.

From ‘Musings on the Merry-go-Round: A Medley of Verse for us Riders of the Earth’ 

6 thoughts on “Of Mirrors and Mexicans”

  2. This resonates, though more a heavy snowfall than a touch of frost in my case. Surely no one with that light sardonic humour would reflect a sullen countenance though. Methinks the muse misled the scribe and did him not justice.

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    1. Thank you, Roma. Ah, the touch of frost was many a long year ago, and the Muse had turned her back on me!

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  3. I love the humour in ‘Upon Reflection’ – there is definitely something wrong with the mirrors in our house – and the succinct truth in ‘To be Gonzales’ .

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