Phase Four--Fade Out

I stalk the aisles for a magic potion
A mask, a cream, a wonder lotion.
In frantic search of a secret elixir,
A guaranteed-permanent wrinkle fixer
To return the bloom upon the cheek
Eternal youth in a jar I seek.

For in my mind I scream in rage
At each new reminder of my age.
I steam, I cream, I tone and condition
To shed ten years is a burning ambition.
Each label beckons with promises glowing
In just three weeks no age will be showing.
A dab of this, a glob of that,
Ignore the wallet, which now is flat.

If this one fails, no need to turn pensive,
Perhaps it wasn't sufficiently expensive.
I see you scoff, oh non-believer
You need only buy to become the receiver
Of timeless beauty and ageless grace
Forever young and fair of face.

Each night I slather on the grease,
Anoint each blemish, cream each crease.
Exotic mixtures for eyes and lips,
Then into bed I gingerly slip.
In the morning I wake with the dawn
Expecting age signs all to be gone.
I beg my mirror---its answer so bland.
"Welcome, my dear, to Fantasy Island."

Copyright Anna Stephens