Saturday, December 11, 2010


I have always like this poem because it amuses me but there is insight as well.


When I am old I will 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 and satin sandals.
And say we have no money for butter.
And I shall sit on the pavement when I get 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 the flowers in other people's gardens,
and learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow fat,
and eat three pounds of chocolate at a go.
Or only bread and pickles for a week,
and hoard pens and pencils and beer mugs,
And things in boxes.

But meanwhile, one must stay respectable
And must not shame the children.
They mind more than we do, being noticeable.
We must keep dry with sensible clothes.
And spend according to good value
and do what is best for us and our children.

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.


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