Speccie She
 

I couldn't do 'Ouch!' at all. But Bill Greenwell, George Simmers and Frank Osen could. I enjoyed their entries and those of talented people not YET within our walls. This next Competition ought to go well I think.

No. 2694: SHE
In As You Like It Shakespeare provides a summary of The Seven Ages of Man. You are invited to provide the equivalent for the Seven Ages of Woman (16 lines maximum). Please email entries, where possible, to lucy@spectator.co.uk by midday on 20 April.

At first, a baby, sleeping on a shoulder
and next the jam-faced girl seen off to school,
then comes a sullen teen who’s slightly older,
and has to be assured she’s dressing cool.

The lover who makes plans for Friday night,
the wife who sees her husband leave the nest,
the businesswoman spoiling for a fight,
a slippered wretch who only wants to rest,

and finally, comatose upon a couch,
her battle done, mouth open in a snore.
Each one of us who lives with her can vouch -
from nursemaid, chauffeur, therapist, and more -

a woman plays assorted roles in life.
Some play them all each day, just ask my wife.

Nice opening shot, Frank.

Seven Ages of Women

The first age is the push chair age. I think
She’s looking quite adorable in pink.

You blink, and now she’s sitting on a horse
Imbibing foaming cherryade of course.

And here she is relaxing from the shops,
Al fresco with her friends and alco pops.

And now she’s brought a fellow to the house,
A scouse, a souse and, principally, a louse.

It doesn’t last, thank God. But fifth comes baby.
And True Love? Yes. And marriage? Maybe. Maybe.

The sixth age is the age that keeps at bay
The seventh age, from day to day to day.

The last and seventh age is very long.
It’s like an old and half-remembered song.

The Seven Ages

1. Her soul looked down and thrilled at the view:
She would take a body and the world begin anew.

2. But the ob gyn said first she peed
on mommy! Now that bespoke a mighty need.

3. Later he creed was best expressed by puke,
her stand in for a sermonette or a stern rebuke.

Sadly, those were the good times, the innocent crimes,
as the age of reason dawned with check-book chewing chimes.

4. The chemical stench of baby waste seemed a memorious thrill
beside the postman's grin and the Mastercard bill.

5. Later with one of her own she was left alone
with an absentee doc who spoke medicinal monotone--

and I watched her nurse and curse but stand for her infant's right.
6. And when the house was empty and the family had taken flight

I saw her grow and blossom in the evening sun.
7. Finally twilight settled in with its limpid dark conclusion.

Stereotypical Stages

Drooling (cutie). Schooling (cutie).
Adolescence (nubile beauty).
Twenties, thirties, forties (slutty).
Obsolescence (bitchy, nutty).

This world’s a catwalk, where one girl can strut
In quite a range of outfits. First, in pink
She makes the whole world coo, but soon
In jeans and trainers she’ll be leaping round
A climbing frame, as agile as an ape.
Next, as a teenage binger, she’s half-dressed
In crop-top, baring midriff and tattoos,
Till she’s a single mum, who sits and smokes
In crumpled tee-shirt, watching Jeremy Kyle,
And cursing men, until, in business suit,
She’s re-born, queen of office politics.
Retired at sixty-five, in strident purple,
She pesters clergymen and does good works,
Till care assistants stuff resistless arms
Into beige frocks, and lead her where she’ll sit
And stare and stare, until it’s time to sleep.

The Seven Ages of Woman

The first twelve years: these build her power base,
establishing the woman she will be.

Her teens: they’re mostly boys/booze/clothes/hair/Face
book. (Waste of time – apart from her degree!)

Twenty to forty: Motherhood, of course,
and then an acrimonious divorce.

A fabulous career’s the next big stage
for women who have reached that ‘certain age’.

The Big Five-O: This decade is the best;
it focuses on her more than the rest.

By sixty she’s a Grandma, which is fun; it
means that she has been there, seen it, done it!

From three score years and ten, until life ends,
she wants to see – and see out – all her friends.

Nice and wry, Jayne. Get's my vote.

Frank