Warning
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and 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 the 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 that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must 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.
I think this was written by Jenny Joseph.
I wish I had a red hat.
xxxx
1 comment:
Go buy one dear Kath xxx
We've come home from a long trip west. It was lovely to see the women from my childhood who are now old ladies; they've grown hairs on their chins and don't care a bit. Somehow it was comforting and wonderful to see them so perfectly happy just as they are.
I'll come back to read your holiday blogging, glad to hear how you are. Em xxx
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