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’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the publix 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 ata 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 up 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 ouight to practice a little now!
So people who know me are not too shocked and suprised
When I suddenly am old, and start to wear purple.
- Jenny Joseph, 1974
i like this poem.
not sure why 
its in my mums study.
but yeah.
i like it 
