WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN


I shall wear purple
With an old 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 that 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.
And I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's garden's
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirt's and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only eat bread and a 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
When suddenly I am old and start to wear purple.
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We have friends to dinner and read the papers.
So people who know me are not to shocked and surprised