Purple

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 the 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 practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Jenny Joseph , who sadly died on the 8th January this year age 85.  What a wonderful gift she's left us. 

Love this poem, and so agree with the line ..... "make up for the sobriety of my youth'' !!

My purple offering is of the flowers I bought from the WI stall in our indoor market yesterday and these are Amanda's flowers.  I would rather see Tulips and particularly Helebores growing in the ground but couldn't resist these.  Amanda's huge flower garden is over the fence from our property, so if I get a ladder I can see them all in the ground!!