Poetry Sunday: Warning by Jenny Joseph

Here's something for all the mothers, for all the women really, growing older. And maybe the men, too, could take it to heart and loosen up a bit. Maybe it's time that we just all be ourselves, rather than trying to be what we think others expect of us. For the most part, they don't care anyway. They are too busy worrying about what we think of them!

 Warning

 by Jenny Joseph
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red 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 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.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick 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 beermats 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 must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Comments

  1. David M. Gascoigne,May 10, 2020 at 5:30 AM

    If I am not mistaken there are actual clubs of ladies who wear purple, and red hats, but I had no idea that poetry had been created to celebrate this time of life and its "to hell with convention" philosophy, all of which is very appealing to me, and I am quite sure very liberating for them. Now where are those sausages........?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersMay 10, 2020 at 10:21 AM

      Yes, the Red Hat Society takes its name and its inspiration for being from this poem which was written in 1961. Even if we are not actually members of the group we can appreciate its philosophy.

      Delete
  2. AlanaMay 10, 2020 at 10:55 AM

    This is a bittersweet poem for me. Years ago I had a co worker who had this posted on her wall. She passed away in 1998 when she was only 58 years old. Life is precious. Now I have reached the purple age. I'm ready to "practice a little".

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersMay 10, 2020 at 12:42 PM

      Coincidentally, 1998 is when the Red Hat Society was formed. Your friend was obviously ahead of her time in appreciating the poem.

      Delete
  3. Judy KruegerMay 10, 2020 at 11:00 AM

    Great! I did not know of this poem. I confess, I did plenty of "practicing" in my days as a single mother raising two boys.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersMay 10, 2020 at 12:43 PM

      I only recently came across the poem. An inspiration to all who have lived sedate lives!

      Delete
  4. The Butterfly ReaderMay 13, 2020 at 10:06 AM

    I love this one so much!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...
Read more

The Investigator by John Sandford: A review

Image
  I have read a few of John Sandford's books in the Prey series featuring Lucas Davenport. This book is a literal offspring of that series. It's the first in a series featuring Davenport's adopted daughter Letty Davenport. Letty is in her mid-20s and a graduate of Stanford. She works for a U.S. senator named Christopher Colles in a desk job but she's bored with her assignments. Then the senator offers her a chance to go into the field as a liaison between his office and the Department of Homeland Security.  In her first assignment in that position, she is sent to Texas along with DHS investigator John Kaiser to try to find out what is happening in regard to thefts of crude oil. The senator is not so concerned about the lost oil but wants to know where the money from its sale is going. Who is selling the oil and what they are doing with the profits? The suspicion is that a particularly nasty militia group led by a woman is involved. Letty and Kaiser head out to Texas, de...
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...
Read more