A sequel to yesterday’s post – just to round it up
By Jenny Joseph
I shall wear purple even when I am not old, which I am not
‘cos I haven’t finished growing up
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
As I am a self funded young retiree I am spending my own money
on champagne and comfortable clothes
and satin candles, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired
I have hundreds of tea light candles and New Zealand organic butter
but never, ever will I sit on the pavement
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 speed drive the shopping trolley in the supermarket
not yet have I succumbed to stick
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
and pick the flowers in other people’s gardens
and learn to spit.
I visit the neighbours in my dressing gown and
have been known to pick her roses but never ever will I spit
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
and eat three pounds of sausages at a go
or only bread and pickles for a week
and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.
I like the crust on freshly baked bread so cut it off all the way
around – ‘cos I can
I hoard empty toilet paper rolls for that day of crafting round the corner
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.
Rent ? what’s that ?
I have been known to let the language fly at times
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 don’t need to practice – I’m already awesome
and quirky, and no-one will be shocked to see me
in purple or red, or green or blue
be it my hat, my clothes or my hair