Mirror mirror upon the wall please tell me
how many faces you can recall. I know that
you are over one hundred years old because
your frame is of oak, a wood that is more
precious than gold. Oh mirror mirror with your
bevelled edge, viewing all above the fire ledge.
If you could speak, what stories you could tell,
or if you could write a book, oh how it would sell.
Oh mirror mirror upon my chimney breast, this has
become your final place of rest. when I found you,
you needed tender loving care but with a bit of
spit and polish you have become quite rare.
Your value is not important that don't worry me
I just love you because you are a mirror and it is
only my face you will see.

sylvia spencer

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-aged-mirror/