Poetry Sunday: When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple by Jenny Joseph
I've featured this one here before, but it is a particular favorite of mine. It is what I aspire to as I grow old, and so here it is again.
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
by Jenny Joseph
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.
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 have read this before and it is truly wonderful. I hope my life is always touched by people with the purple and red hat mindset. In my own understated way I hope I am one of them!
ReplyDeleteI am quite sure you are, David!
DeleteThis is a fabulous poem and one of my favs, too. :D
ReplyDeleteI am glad to know that, Lark. Somehow it doesn't surprise me!
DeleteOne of my co-workers, back in the 1990's, had this poem posted on her work wall. But she never made it to old age, or even to age 60 for that matter - she was diagnosed with cancer in 1996 and made it into February of 1998. The Tuesday before Christmas in 1997, this co-worker gave us our final gift - the gift of her presence. We took her out to a local restaurant, and she gave us a tour of her house afterwards - something that took great effort. I still have some Christmas ornaments she made for us for our Christmas gift exchange. This poem always makes me think of her. I think she would have worn her purple proudly. It's a beautiful poem.
ReplyDeleteThat is a lovely, if sad, story, Alana. Thank you for sharing it.
DeleteI better start now too ... to wear purple and hoard pens and pencils and things in boxes. Oh uh. Maybe I already have.
ReplyDeleteI feel you!
DeleteOh, I absolutely adore this poem! It's one of my favorites, too, and I completely understand why you've featured it again. It’s such a joyful, defiant anthem to freedom and embracing magnificent eccentricity later in life!
ReplyDeleteAnytime you want a little company, holler at me, and we shall go about in purple, wreaking havoc!
ReplyDelete