On Middle Age

by Susan Cameron

It's not my turn to post, but let me stick this in here. Every year, Jane Glenn Haas of the Orange County Register runs The International Longevity Light Verse Contest, and I decided to throw in an entry this year for the first time. If you'd like to have fun with it, here are the rules:

• The topic is aging/longevity/life after 50. Keep entries short. Homeric epics will be tossed.

• Do not use the word "geezer."

• Do not rhyme Viagra with Niagara.

• Do not look in the mirror and see your mother, grandmother, or great-aunt.

You must be 50 or over to enter. Put your name, address, telephone number, email address and age on the entry. Enter as often as you like. Deadline is August 21; winning poems are published in the Orange County Register in September. Email to janeghaas@gmail.com (Verses entries only). Send snail mail to Verses, Jane Glenn Haas, the Orange County Register, P.O. Box 11626, Santa Ana, CA 92711.

Okay, so here's my entry:

ON MIDDLE AGE

We need to stop the whining and the narcissistic pining
for the bodies we had once and won't again --
the price we pay for living is the youth that we've been giving
day-by-day to tax-man Time since Time began.
Aging's not a tragedy; it's only nature's strategy,
so suck it up, 'cause life is still okay --
I'm still here and so are you; we know some day that won't be true,
so smile, old fool -- go out and seize the day!

Susan Cameron, copyright 2009


Have a good one, everybody!

Belated Happy Mother's Day!

by Susan Cameron

I spent almost two blissful weeks away from newspapers, TV news, and even -- gasp! -- the internet, so this Mother's Day offering (inspired by Heather, a fellow writing student) is a tad belated. Nevertheless...

TRUE LOVE

My breasts were once firm mountain peaks
but now they're two balloons with leaks.
My thighs were strong and hard as rock
but now they jiggle as I walk.
My stomach flat, once wafer-thin,
has rolls of fat where none had been.
My stretch-marked skin, once smooth and silky,
maps the way to Albuquerque.

'Til I had you, I used to preen
before my mirror. A beauty queen --
Superficial, shallow, vain.
My body's loss was my soul's gain.
In giving life, mine got its start.
I lost my shape and found my heart.
Back then I didn't have a clue.
I know what love is, thanks to you.

Susan Cameron, copyright 1999 or so :-)