We head into the weekend with English poet Jenny Joseph’s 1961 poem, “Warning,” which illustrates what we’d all [?} like to be–free and unhampered by society’s notions of propriety.
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.
I read somewhere that Joseph, who was 29 when she wrote the poem, never wore purple because she felt she looked terrible in purple. Unlike her, I wear lots of purple and I look good in it! 😀
About the image: When I shared the sunflowers a few days ago, I mentioned that my Love Notes friend, Eileen V, had enclosed a special treat. The image above–a well executed copy of a souvenir cover of the poem–was drawn inside the card! Isn’t it fun?