PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Once I was visiting a friend of mine

and we were laughing and happy and gay

and his home was a beauty

with things of old

with the feel of another day

and as I took a tour of this stately old home

down an old and forgotten hall

I glanced an old looking glass, standing there

down there in the dark, by the wall

And I could not move, for it held me tight

as tho it grasp my arm

and the dust on it's top, could not take away

the look of it's beauty and charm

and as I stood there, it seemed to say

come near and listen to me

come near and hear, what I have to say

for I've missed you so from that other day

and I felt a love for this old piece of wood

now familier and so dear

and I don't know why, but as I touched it's face

I began to shed a tear

and as I stood there so enthraled

the looking glass started to speak

and it told me a tale of long ago

in a voice so sad and deep

I'm just an old looking glass, scratched and old

and I stand in the hall way here

a hundered years have come and gone

and no one gives a care

I stand beside this book case

where I have always been

and no one takes a second glance

and no one calls me friend

Oh, once I stood in great glory

once I sttod in great pride

when the man of the house

brought me home one day

as a gift for his brand new bride

now I stand dusty and all alone

and my mirror is cracked and old

but once I had great beauty

and was trimmed in the finest of gold

once the varnish upon me shown

and children played 'round my feet

and their laughter was like the tinkling of bells

innocent and oh so sweet

then the man of the house lost his brand new bride

to a fever one sad day

and no more was there happiness of any kind

and no more did the children play

and I was banished to this old spot

where it's dark and so very cold

but my memories are still as fresh and clear

as they were in the days of old

Come closer my friend, I'll tell you a tale

tales of the long ago

tales of many wonderful thing

tales to hold so the memory sings

of lovers and sadness and dreams and things

come closer my friend, for it's lonely here

and I'll tell you all my secret's

but come back in the dark, in the midnight hour

and this tale, you must always keep it

and suddenly a sadness came over me

a sadness so strange and bold

and looking down, I was so surprised

I was dressed in the days of old

I can't imagine how it came to be

for I had never been here before

but I felt I beloged in this very spot

back in the days of yore

and as I looked into it's crystal frame

I saw a vision so fair

a vision of Mary, my precious bride

combing her long golden hair

she was dressed in blue satan

of the palest hue

and around her neck was white lace

and she sat in front of this looking glass

with a smile on her pretty face

Oh it was a time I knew so well

it was our wedding day

and she was the love

and the joy of my life

and it would always be this way----

Oh Mary, sweet Mary, where did you go

for you've faded away from view

your gone and the mirror has a cloudy space

where you sat in your dress of blue

Mary my Mary, come back again

for I can never let you go

come back again to my loving arms

for you know I love you so

and again she appeared to me in the glass

and she beckoned to me with her hand

she beckoned to me to follow her there

into her strange and different land

then she smiled at me and the mirror said

go to her, my friend

but be aware, if you step inside

you can never come back again

and with out a thought, I stepped through the glass

into the days of yore

and found myself in our old bed room

just like it had been before

and on the stand by our big carved bed

her music box played soft and sweet

and out side the door, I heard laughter gay

and the footsteps of little feet

but Mary was gone, was nowhere in sight

and my heart was as heavy as lead

and I cried and cried and remembered again

as I sat on our stone cold bed

yesterday my Mary had gone

the angels came and took her away

and today we put her down

in the cold cold ground

to stay till the judgement day

down in the dark, the cold damp dark

that Mary hated so

down under the grass

and to never see again

the beaurtiful moon light's glow

and then I smelled it, the fragrance that she used to wear

and I knew she was oh so close

but where, but where

then I looked up to see her smiling at me

through the mirrors brillient glare

I rushed to the mirror to clasp her hand

that she held up to the glass

and I tried to grasp her hand in mine

but alas, alas, alas

we would never be able to touch again

for the mirror is backward's you see

and the hand she held out for me to hold

was on the other side of me

and as a tear trickled down her palest cheek

she stood on the other side

in her beautiful suit of the modern time

my best frends lovely bride

Now I'm left alone to weep and to mourn

in our sad and lonely room

to face my life withuut my love

in the silence of this gloom

Now every so often, I feel her near

and I see her vision so fair

as she stands with a tear running down her face

in the mirrors oval glare-----

Now that looking glass still stands in the old hall way

over on the other side

and sometimes it beckons to one or two

come take a look inside

but if you chnce to come over here

beware my dearest friend

you'll bring all your sorrows down from your past

and you can never go back again

never go back again