When I Am An Old Woman...

I know I can be too serious, so I thought it time to let you know the poem I have kept in my life for over 25 years and now keep in my laundry room as a reminder to myself that someday my work will be done and I will get to sit in my rocking chair and not have to read regular security reports of terrorist threats around the world and formulate Deep Thoughts about Theology of Risk. 

When I Am Old

When I am an old woman I shall 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'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 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 beer mats 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 will 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