When I Am An Old Woman

by Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn`t go and which doesn`t suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals and say we`ve no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I`m tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells.

And run my stick along public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

     I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

     And pick flowers in other people`s gardens

     And learn to spit.

     You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

     And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

     Or only bread and pickle for a week

     And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes which keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We will have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old and start to wear purple.

This little poem just tickles me pink, with it`s wonderful insight into the ageing process and the unbuckling of the straight jacket of years, as the tide of time washes back out to sea. Before it goes, why not enjoy a little fun and self expression by at last kicking all the crap into touch, and just letting the inner spirit free. It`s better to burn out than fade away.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s