Preening into her hand-held mirror
frowning, lost utterly in self:
beauty, shimmering and taut
While in the crook of her arm,
blinking and touching his
reflection, lips curved
in pleasurable disbelief
a baby’s first look at self-
‘booty’ must be the thought.
Plucking that stubborn strand of grey,
a valiant attempt
at beauty slipping just out of reach.
Clinking glass-bangles held up,
angled and glittery,
a twinkle of beauty in her eyes.
Fondly gazing at her
dressing up in a hurry:
beauty, it is too, for him,
Absently pushing his glasses up
while his hand brushed a shock of hair that was,
out of soft brown eyes
beauty,present in the absent manner
of its owner.
Starched and stiff,
an inviting rustle as she
lumbered about, beauty
polished to a fade.
Glimpses all, into the age of beauty.