She gazed into her mirror

And beheld an aging face…

The woman looking back at her

Seemed strangely out of place.

Time, wily thief, had stolen gold

And left her only gray…

She touched with rueful fingers

Lines that would not smooth away.

Lost in wistful contemplation

She was really unaware

As the door behind her opened

With her husband standing there.

Are you ready yet, my darlin’?

Lady, aren’t you a sight…

I can see why blue’s your color!

Girl, you’ll knock ‘em dead tonight!

With started gaze she met his eyes

Reflected in the glass…

And as he smiled the strangest thing

Of all had come to pass.

It may have been a change of light

But gray returned to gold…

And the woman in the mirror now looked

Young instead of old!

–Helen V. Christensen

Chicken Soup for the Romatic Soul