POETRY


Choclates and ice creams,
Lipstick and face creams
Freaking out and stakeouts
Making out and dropouts

Ponytails and pigtails
Cocktails and mocktails
Pictures and Lectures
Strictures and Censures

First love – thrills, chills, spills
Soaring high over the hills
Sunbeams and daydreams
Tantrums and letting off steam

Appointments and Disappointments
Graduation desperation
First job aspirations

Fist fights and sweet kisses
Daredevils and near misses
Dad’s a terror, and Mom’s a pest
I know it all and I am the best

I’m special, I’m different,
It’s all about me
Juvenile and mature
Unsure of my stature
I’ll get there too

Learning thrills, honing skills
Home and marriage, cars and carriage
To the ring of the till,
Succeed I will

Soaring and tumbling, crawling and fumbling
Changing and longing,
Succeed I will

A pretty girl and riches galore
Home and kids and never a care
Top of the rung, none can dare
Succeed I will

Then reality knocks, hope floats
Greed gloats, but truth bloats
Life drags and faith sags
The tills will ring and your heart will sing
Lose not your will, and succeed you will

When the face slackens and the waist thickens
When the hair whitens and the knees weaken
Reading is a chore, the letters are a blur
Libido flags and the pelvis sags
Faces flush and tempers flare
Tears gush and voices blare
The woman in me, where is she ?
I hate you, I love you I hate me too
I don’t know what to do
I know me not, this boo-hoo-hoo
Menopause they call it
Hormones will do it
My sagging hips and shrinking tits
Oh dear I am just going to bits
My wrinkled neck and shrinking spine
I am anything but fine

The prize ahead is freedom from PMT and pads
A life of my own I am able to lead
Travel, kitty parties and fun
The nest is empty, so I can run
Reinvent myself and develop a new file
Of dress and makeup and lifestyle
For menopause is really not a sentence at all
But actually liberation that makes sense.

When the face slackens and the waist thickens
When the hair whitens and the knees weaken
Reading is a chore, the letters are a blur
The eyes rove and the heart wanders
At every skirt that saunders
Top of the job, in command
Talk of the town, in demand
Racing, racing like a cougar
What about the fruits of labour ?
Pension plans, what future ?
A sternal scar, 20 sutures
Is this the meaning of your life ?

She walks, she talks, she even laughs
But through it all
One sees the unwept tears
The hurt and fears
When cancer calls

Doleful eyes, sore and red
With silent mourning in her bed
Pain she has seen, in measure untold
Its where she’s been, that has made her bold

Drips and drugs that make her sick
Jabs and rays to make her tick
An aching belly, a gnawing knee
Facing all, that has to be

Standing tall, conquering all,
She saw it through
Now brave and strong here she is
Before you

A pretty face, a lovely smile
A generous heart that could stretch a mile
State of the art, top of the line
Funds enough to keep her fine
She rose, she shone
Always there for everyone

A look of love, a kiss on the cheek,
A friendly grip, a hug to keep
A pat on the back, a light touch
A kind word, a thoughtful deed
She had it all, but none of these
Yet she did her best to please

None to talk to, none to care
In distress her heart to bare
None nearby her joy to share
Life for her was just a dare

Broken and worn, tattered and torn
The sunset years set in
Tired, she withdrew from the din
None to lean on, no kith or kin
Feeling like an empty bin

Having thus her life spent
Lonely it is at the top she learnt
Heart yearning as her back bent
Death she welcomed as God sent