Happiness is when what you say, what you think, and what you do are in harmony. (Mahatma Ghandi)
No, I don’t wear makeup. It doesn’t hide anything that isn’t superficial. During play, my granddaughter acted as my new beautician. Since the mascara was probably bought sometime during the Reagan era, I washed my face as soon as possible and then discarded the contents of the old makeup bag.
However, I saved this poem, written and published in Dream Weaver Magazine in January of 1998.
Sonnet by a Mature Woman New wrinkle creams entice from glossy ads with svelte, young anorexics smiling out at both my chins, at skin too old for fads. Bold claims portrayed in color, dull my doubt. Be young. Be free. Deny the lines of time. The agony of blemish, breasts that sag must never mar a body fit to climb perfection’s route, nor risk cosmetic snag. And yet my husband sees each bulge and flaw with eyes that know the gain and loss of years we’ve shared: the new and old, the fresh and raw of yesterdays with struggles, joys, and fears. We see within each other love held deep. Compared to banal wisdom, beauty’s cheap.
terrypetersen 