Advantage of age
A menopause past man can woo a lass.
A menopause past woman can woo a lad
Their age guard them from suspicion.
The lass and the lad get a safe outlet.
01.02.2002, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The real beauty
Till your puberty, you have a face
You are born with.
Till marriage, you get a face
You aspire to have.
Till menopause, you have a face
You strive to retain.
Past menopause, you are left with a face
You deserve to carry.
Real beauty is one past menopause too.
15.12.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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To be longed for and to long
Why must a woman flaunt her beauty,
Even after having secured her mate
If at all that was her strategy,
And why must she still pursue it
Though not at all to procure one,
And carry it past menopause
When her cyclic urge settles down?
Why must a man long for a woman,
Even after having hooked his mate
If at all that was his acumen,
And why must he still sustain it
Though not at all to replace the one,
And carry it past his menopause
When he is rendered as a straw?
Being longed for is her pleasure;
Longing for woman is his pleasure.
23.09.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Menopause
The menopause arrives with out warning
Childbearing days over as day is dawning
Hot flushes, tears sheer unease
HRT patches work for me please
Irritable angry one moment, next so sad
Feel good as you wake up Go to bed sad
From teenage years nothing helps you prepare
For the menopause years its not bloody fare
No more pregnancies the body a barren room
The menopause came with no warning too soon
It arrives over night, gets you while you sleep
You can’t control your emotions weep girls weep
Old women say it gets worse before it gets better
A toast to the Menopause a real life up setter
poem by Marie Causey
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Do Men Menopause?
All women do menopause
But do all men menopause?
When I write and take a pause.
Lowered hormones are the cause.
Women's condition menopause.
Men's condition Andropause.
Aging women, no go
Aging men though low,
on hormones, it's still go.
So, the answer is Yes and No.
A test of menopause
A lad and lass, in a hottest day,
On the shore of Elliot Beach, at dusk
Stood pressed, her hands round his nape,
His circling her waist, inviting each wave
To get drenched and pressed still more-
A sight that triggered in me a jealousy,
A sign that I am under menopause.
29.05.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Dry Your Tears You Lass!
DRY YOUR TEARS YOU LASS!
Oh! You lonely heart
Sick on stone of love
Gaze million of love past
Through the gate of love heart
You! Lass of morrow joy
Weep in street of solitary way
Oh! Open white heart for new saviors pass
Soil opens the pregnant of land
For earthworm to burrow,
You are rose of Sharon,
You look like lily of a valley
As a lily among the bramble
Just like your love among lad,
Dry your tears young lass
Man is blow trumpet love to you
Our land whisper of joy to your side
African love lorn, dry your tragedy tears
Maker listens to your woeful ballad
You lass, let joy circulate your heart
Because your flower still fresh
poem by Olugbenga Ayoola.O
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For A' That
Tho' women's minds, like winter winds,
May shift, and turn, an' a' that,
The noblest breast adores them maist-
A consequence I draw that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
And twice as meikle's a' that;
The bonie lass that I loe best
She'll be my ain for a' that.
Great love I bear to a' the fair,
Their humble slave, an' a' that;
But lordly will, I hold it still
A mortal sin to thraw that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
And twice as meikle's a' that;
The bonie lass that I loe best
She'll be my ain for a' that.
But there is ane aboon the lave,
Has wit, and sense, an' a' that;
A bonie lass, I like her best,
And wha a crime dare ca' that?
For a' that, an' a' that,
And twice as meikle's a' that;
The bonie lass that I loe best
She'll be my ain for a' that.
In rapture sweet this hour we meet,
Wi' mutual love an' a' that,
But for how lang the flie may stang,
Let inclination law that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
And twice as meikle's a' that;
The bonie lass that I loe best
She'll be my ain for a' that.
Their tricks an' craft hae put me daft.
They've taen me in, an' a' that;
But clear your decks, and here's-"The Sex!"
I like the jads for a' that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
And twice as meikle's a' that;
The bonie lass that I loe best
She'll be my ain for a' that.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Bonnie Lass
My Bonnie Lass From Scotland
Whom I love with all my heart
Across the sea, she came to me
From her, I shall never part.
As she is my everything
As I wander throughout my life
And like a prayer, she is always there
So now my Lass, has became my wife.
As she is the beauty
That enters into my thoughts
So now when I close my eyes, I realize
She was my victory in a battle hard fought.
My Bonnie Lass from Scotland
Whom I love with all my soul
And in my brain, she will always remain
As never will I let her go.
When I close my eyes and off to sleep
My mind though is still wide awake,
Sometimes I wonder, as though I ponder
How do I live, if from me, she GOD did take.
For I love her more than the red, red rose
That blooms in the summertime
And I will love her till, my heart stands still
Till then, I know that she is mine.
My Bonnie Lass from Scotland
You are the reason that I do live
As in this world of take, and remake
To you and only you, I will always give.
And though in times that we might fight
But in my heart I am holding your hand
I can take the pain, like the falling rain
As always I know, I am your man.
In years from now when its my time to leave
And our present will become your past
With tears in my eye, I will always cry
That I love you my Bonnie, Bonnie Lass.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Mom No Exception
Good women after menopause
Are so jealous, I say.
I have seen mom-in-law getting
Upset, and covering up
With put-on laughter,
When her husband talked a bit more
To his own daughter-in-law
In the drawing-room.
I never thought Mom was like that -
Shocked I was to hear in Chennai
From Seline and Rajiv separately
That she made hell for Dad in sixties
Because young women in church
Circled him for counseling.
Eldest, and away in Maharashtra,
I didn’t know: Mom is dead 17 years now.
When man reaches
The age beyond bedventure,
The woman becomes
Taut and tense, seeing
Him with younger women.
And of course denies being jealous.
That her man is old.…
Does it make her suspect
He is doing other things freely?
Whatever that may be
Good women after menopause
Are very jealous.
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
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The Male Menopause
The menopause is changing life.
It brings many women enormous strife.
The shifting change of the ground we stand,
Often feels like a different land.
A time for growth you know t'is true.
A golden opportunity, don't be blue.
Go with the flow, accept the change.
Embrace the difference; don't think it strange.
Look at the positive side of the page.
You are slowly growing into a sage.
An older wiser woman you'll be.
It happens to you and it happens to me.
But lets not forget amidst this shift,
That it also happens to men, catch my drift?
They too go through the whirling change,
Upheavals, distress, and things that seem strange.
For this condition, it too has a name.
Not Menopause, Andropause, the effect is the same.
So let us acknowledge men feel in a muddle,
And as well as our own needs
They too need a cuddle.
poem by Rosi Caswell
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Sweet Bonnie, Bonnie Lass
Sweet Bonnie, Bonnie lass
She is walking through the grass
With the wind blowing in her hair,
She is looking for the man
She calls her own and take his hand
But sadly, he is never ever there,
As she is heading back home
And again she is all alone
As again GOD had ignored her thoughts,
But sadly no one does care
What she is doing over there
As she’ll never find, what she had sought.
Sweet Bonnie, Bonnie lass
Whom I had just past
As I shied away from happily,
I have known of her before
As she had knocked upon my door
But now the door is shut and I am free,
As it was not that long ago
When she filled my heart with woe
Then threw my heart and life away,
As she smiled as though she cared
But never worried how I had faired
And goodbye to me she never did say.
Sweet Bonnie, Bonnie Lass
Love for you it never did last
And your hopes and dreams are now all gone,
Someday though you will get old
And you will be standing all alone
As you will be walking upon your lawn,
You will be seeking someone new
So you can say again, I love you
As your walking down life’s final path,
But no one will ever be there
As the winds blows though your hair
My Sweet Bonnie, Bonnie Lass.
poem by Randy McClave
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One Tear
Last night, when at parting
Awhile we did stand,
Suddenly starting,
There fell on my hand
Something that burned it,
Something that shone
In the moon as I turned it,
And then it was gone.
One bright stray jewel -
What made it stray?
Was I cold or cruel,
At the close of day?
Oh, do not cry, lass!
What is crying worth?
There is no lass like my lass
In the whole wide earth.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Armour and Amor
Now listen to me now
And to me pay attention
Sometimes the course of love
Needs a mother's intervention
Now listen to my tale
How some Armour old and rusty
Led Lass to discover
Love deep and true and lusty
One day while cleaning house
Mom found a coat of Armour
She didn't want the dusty thing
To clutter up her parlor
She made Lass take it back
And thats how Lass met Laddy
He was a big improvement
Over Tom and Dick and Harry
It worked out for the best
And thus did Lass acquire
A true love who's a knight-
She didn't settle for his squire.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Dorothy is the only woman in history who has had her menopause in public and made it pay.
quote by Alice Roosevelt Longworth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scrape not sexual art.
When you coin love song,
you relive with your past love.
The one who tunes for it
Too, relives with one’s past love.
Hero and heroine play it,
With sex hidden in flesh,
While the singers recall
Their love in singing it.
Audience turns as heroes and heroines
To relish their past love.
Art with sex is the outlet
For human libido.
Where art thrives there dies sexual assult.
16.04.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Beneath the cloy mountain grass
Oh come hither my lass to the hills
Where the valleys gorge calls out
And sing, dance and shout my love
For what this life is all about?
And if it isn't to be merry my love
And if it isn't to be glad;
Then bury me my bonny lass
Beneath the cloy mountain grass.
Oh come gather me in your arms my lass
Take me back to the sea and the stars
And if there's nothing shinning my love
Tarry with my heart in your lonesome arms
For the waters all around me love
Are deep and dark, and black
So if it isn't to be glad my lass
Bury me beneath the cloy mountain grass.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Easy nest and prey
Lads are boy-toys to elder women.
Lass are doll-girls to elder men.
Lads and lass find their safe nests;
Old women and men find their easy prey.
11.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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There Was a Bonie Lass - A fragment
There was a bonie lass, and a bonie, bonie lass,
And she lo'ed her bonie laddie dear;
Till War's loud alarms tore her laddie frae her arms,
Wi' mony a sigh and tear.
Over sea, over shore, where the cannons loudly roar,
He still was a stranger to fear;
And nocht could him quail, or his bosom assail,
But the bonie lass he lo'ed sae dear.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Song Of Riches
What will you give to a barefoot lass,
Morning with breath like wine?
Wade, bare feet! In my wide morass
Starry marigolds shine.
Alms, sweet Noon, for a barefoot lass,
With her laughing looks aglow!
Run, bare feet! In my fragrant grass
Golden buttercups blow.
Gift, a gift for a barefoot lass,
O twilight hour of dreams!
Rest, bare feet, by my lake of glass,
Where the mirrored sunset gleams.
Homeward the weary merchants pass,
With the gold bedimmed by care.
Little they wise that the barefoot lass
Is the only millionaire.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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To live young, be conscious of sex
She, who abstain from her sexual desire,
fast loses her glaze, grows old in looks.
She, who enlivens it in adequate measure,
fast holds her glaze even past menopause.
Italian actress Sophia Loron, at 65,
was crowned the beauty of consistency.
25.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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