There is a natural order in life
There are rules to be understood
For example, bearing children
There is a time limit on motherhood
The term “childbearing years”
Was coined for a very simple reason
So that everything in life
Can have its time and season
A Woman over fifty is ill equipped
To show a baby proper care
As she would put the baby down
And then forget where
I’m in my middle years now
And my new car is a
wow
It’s fast, new and
sporty
Just the opposite of
me
It is sleekly lined
With its curves well
defined
It has a nice interior
The leather is quite
superior
My only complaint
would be
The bucket seats you
see
As they are made to
the design
Of a smaller bucket
than mine
What with middle age spread
And the force of gravity
Time has played havoc
With my once sylph
like body
My hourglass figure is
no more
Alas it’s more like a
barometer case
And my “cross your heart”
bra
Is more of a “cross
your waist”
At Chelsea my mother
Ran naked thru the
judge’s tent
And she won first
prize
For the best dry
arrangement
I knew I had reached Middle age
We I went on holiday to Valetta
And among summer clothes
In my suitcase was a sweater
My boss has either
been struck down by a midlife crisis or the male menopause, we are not sure
which yet.
He has just sold his
Range Rover and bought himself a brand-new Porsche or as we lowly employees
prefer to call it his “Meno-Porsche”.
There can be few
things in this life more ridiculous than a balding man in his fifties with high
blood pressure and a dodgy hip, driving an expensive sports car, not to mention
getting in and out of it.
In my experience real
men don’t even like sports cars, after all they are so impractical, real men
like trucks, vans, jeeps and Landover’s.
Women on the other
hand love sports cars, which is no doubt the reason that older men like to drive
them in a vain attempt to attract women who otherwise wouldn’t look at them
twice.
When I look at him
admiring his new baby, I’m convinced he feels the Porsche has pulling power.
I feel confident he
will soon come to his senses and buy himself a pick up because he won’t pick up
anything in his Porsche other than a bad back and the only thing he is likely
to pull is a muscle trying to exit the car with his dignity intact.
Middle age is the time
When
it takes you all night
To
do once, what once,
You
used to do all night
Long after needing bifocals and hearing aids
We still make love in the silent gloom
The only difference being that during the act
It would be difficult to tell with whom
It's scary when you start making,
During any kind of undertaking
The same noises and exclamations
It's true that life begins at fifty
Of that I don’t think there’s a doubt
But it's then that everything else starts
To wear out, fall out, or spread out
I have reached that time when
Normal
life has come to a halt
I’m
at the age where I can’t take
Anything
with a pinch of salt
I have found in middle age
When I’m exercising
The best one for my core
Seems to be keeping a fart in
My Aunt was thirty when she lost her virginity
She had left it so late as the act was so dreaded
But was relieved when it had finally happened,
And wasn’t so much deflowered as deadheaded
Through all my years alive
And
years of wrong and right
I
can safely state today
Whether
or not it’s polite
I’ve
never met a Nigel
That
I’ve actually liked
I have discovered that regardless
Of
your relationship with your parents
Or
the level of family stress
You
will miss them terribly
After
they die and you’ll be a mess
Middle age is the time
When
it takes you all night
To
do once, what once,
You
used to do all night
As I have gotten older
It
came as no surprise
That
children and grandparents
Are
natural allies
Bimbette, Peaches and Soiree
Three
slappers from Essex way
Are
out on the town one day
Middle
aged Women on the loose
Two
old Dogs and a Moose
Well-oiled
and up for a goose
