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. My mum is a role model of how to live an interesting and varied life well into your ninety fourth year.