By Jenny Joseph
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry For Vannah.
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 am tired,
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells,
And run my stick along 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 peoples' gardens
And learn to spit.
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.
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for our 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.
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