No. 1311: The winners

Jaspistos reports: Competitors were asked for a poem in praise of the older man or woman as a lover.

Ancient person, for whom I All the flattering youth defy, Long be it ere thou grow old, Aching, shaking, crazy, cold; But still continue as thou art, Ancient person of my heart.

If Rochester could manage to keep his tongue out of his cheek on this theme, so, I thought, could you. Consequently this week I favoured the sentimental over the cynical. It is, I promise you, pure coin- cidence rather than sex-bias that accounts for the winners' praise being mainly directed at older men. The six money- earners printed below get a each, and J. C. M. Hepple takes the bonus bottle of Californian Fume Blanc 1981 (Robert Mon- davi), presented by Mr Neville Abraham of the Cafe des Amis du Vin, 11 Hanover Place, Covent Garden, London WC2 (379 3444).

Footnote to Competition No. 1309: A correspondent assures me that at one time Sir Ralph Richardson was the owner of a gerbil. He recalls: 'When I was a tyro actor, my father, who was a theatre critic, told me that the best way to ingratiate myself with Richardson was to take him a gerbil — which [did.'

Now not so young, you're getting longer-sighted, So, when I catch the train you thought I'd missed,

You pick me out at once, and wave excited, And come to claim me, eager to assist. A little deaf, you always get the gist

Although you're sometimes foxed by odd requests Until I whisper close... Your neck and wrist Are strong but veined. You wisely choose wool vests.

Childlike you nudge Your head between my breasts, And, like a child, you have fine, pallid hair. We know which of our many interests To follow separately — and which to share. If we had met when we were young and shy, Love might so easily have passed us by. (J. C. M. Hepple) His hand as he gropes may feel like a leaf Upon my youthful thigh And when he goes I'll be full of grief And certainly heave a sigh, But the stocks and shares and gold and money Will help me to survive, Though the love of a dotard's not all honey And it's hard to tell he's alive.

Oh, the thought of the liberties I shall take With the jewels and works of art Sustains me as I lie awake And listen to his heart!

Romantic love is great on a crust But real estate is greater, So give me an old man's feeble lust (And I'll take a young one's later).

(T. Griffiths) Young love is callow, Heartless and shallow. I would stay fallow Rather than wallow In such a hollow. Age will I follow.

Give me a yellow, Golden and mellow Elderly fellow. (Jean Hayes) As our tacit Agreement has it, Your shrinking asset Makes things more placid.

Don't think I'm acid.

I call it blessed. (Gerda Mayer) 'Like a young boy,' says old wife to old husband.

'Better by far,' says old husband to wife. 'Rock-a-bye baby and ride-a-cock-horse Will keep love in clover, will mitigate strife, And banish the frost at the chill end of life.

(Gerda Mayer) That lover I look on as best Whose sun is sloping to the west In a long golden afternoon.

Though fresh, the morning star fades soon.

In Venus's laboratory Who an experiment would be?

One who already has made gold My true illuminate 1 hold.

Young heart will season by and by Whom the next age will love, not I.

(George Moor) Living with a same-age lover Is not, for me, to live in clover: A recipe, in fact, for trouble — Narcissus can't abide his double.

A lad who's lithe and fresh and twenty Will find that there are always plenty Of lonely guys of forty/fifty (Despite their years, still pretty nifty) Prepared to be a boy's best friend And forge a brief but potent blend (From age) of status, poise and cash; (From youth) of wildness, zest and dash.

So bag a bloke who's got position — A banker, judge or politician —

Who's kind and loaded: older guys (This Which reports) are better buys_

(Jon Fernside)