The Middle-aged Woman

She strides through life, her head held high,
A twinkle of wisdom in her eye.
Wrinkles? Oh, those aren’t flaws, my dear,
They’re laugh lines etched from joy and cheer.

She knows her shade, her lipstick’s hue,
No rookie smudge, she’s tried and true.
Her makeup’s art, her look refined,
Each stroke a masterpiece, one-of-a-kind.

In bed? Oh please, she knows the score,
No fumbling hands, no awkward chore.
She’s read the manual, tossed it out,
Rewritten the rules, left no doubt.

She’s confident, sharp, a force of nature,
A seasoned player, no imitator.
She knows the game, the world, the stakes,
And laughs at the silly, trivial mistakes.

She’s reached the point where nothing shakes her,
No trend or fad or critic, hahh, she is the rule maker.
This middle-aged queen, with wit and flair,
Is living proof that she’s beyond compare.