A Curtal Sonnet by Marianne Jones

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat-Jenny Jones

Passion grows stronger in the old

There is no November of the heart,

no leafless trees, no loveless cold

This is the country of the bold

the scarlet-hatted, pressing ‘Start’,

as leaves in Fall flare red and gold.

This is the time of clearer sight,

of pruning out, remaking charts

not on a shrinking scale but grand;

when roses, running, waves and light

brighten against the borderland.

A newly favourite poem by a poet I have only just discovered, thanks to Mslexia. Hating the idea of any stereotyping, whether by age, sex, race or any other category, I love her celebration of age. We grannies are not fat blobs with saggy thighs we are people who are still living their lives to the full, in whatever way we choose.533257_354654481282249_1155705509_n My mum is a role model of how to live an interesting and varied life well into your ninety fourth year.

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