Are you wearing a red wig?
I know
you’re not a natural Redhead
So, if that’s
not an ill-fitting wig
It’s a very bad dye-job instead
Are you wearing a red wig?
I know
you’re not a natural Redhead
So, if that’s
not an ill-fitting wig
It’s a very bad dye-job instead
Menaka, Apsara
Of the
clouds and waters
In Hindu
and Buddhist mythology
A celestial
nymph
And
celestial maiden
A beautiful
supernatural being
Youthful
and elegant,
Who dances
to the music
Of the
Gandharvas,
In the
palaces of the Gods,
Entertainer
and seducer
Of Gods and
men
An ethereal
being
Inhabiting
the skies
When you’re on the pull
If you want
to break the ice
Say
something funny
Or say
something nice
Be complimentary
Or just lie
in your endeavour
Be
devastatingly witty
Or say
something clever
“Well Baby
I don’t mind saying
The way you
wear that frock,
That I'm no
Fred Flintstone,
I love you by any measure
You might
wish to use
But I don’t
know how to express
The way I
feel about you
And the
affect you have on me
So, I hope
this gives you a clue
If they
gave out medals
Just for
love untold
You would
get the bronze
Silver and
Gold
Don’t be scared of being Forty
Meet the
milestone with defiance
You’re no
really forty, but eighteen
The problem with lying about your age
It’s not the
deception you deplore
It’s when
they all believe you and
At the age of fifty you're officially
Over the
hill, but worse than that
You are
partway down the other side
Sorry if
that leaves you flat