I’ve been channeling my inner crone since my surgery. I quite like her spunk. She reminds me of Warning, a poem 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 read the rest here.
Here is my Warning:
When I’m recovering from surgery,
I will wear a purple nightgown even when
collecting my newspaper midday.
I will groan when rising from a chair
quite as loudly as I wish, whoever is near.
I will send children to fetch blankets,
saltine crackers and stacks of books.
I will ignore the phone, nap in the afternoon
and pant in the shade with a glare for
nimble birds with blithe acrobatics.
I shall graduate to dresses, worn as if I’m off
to a party, too exclusive to mention.
I’ll park badly, abandon my shopping cart
without a care in the middle of the way,
and eat ice-cream for breakfast.
I shall spit my words as if they are
cherry pits in winter.
Perhaps I should teach my children
a stoic resilience that forbids weakness.
I should open my mail, tidy my kitchen,
churn the corporate milk into cream.
Or perhaps I should throw off expectations
and have a day of nightgowns and naps.
Otherwise, my children might be quite worried
when I wear my purple nightgown outdoors at midday.
Note: Do you feel moved to deliver your own warning after the universe has delivered your daily bread? I’m in the mood to appreciate it. Happy Poetry Friday and thanks to Tara Smith at A Teaching Life for hosting.
On a happy note, I visited Liz Brownlee and learned about UK National Poetry Day which is celebrating message poems this year in an outpouring of wonderful words already, culminating in the day, October 6. The Forward Arts Foundation and Liz Brownlee, as ambassador, welcome participation around the world. Liz celebrated a poem of mine as NPD Poem of the Day a few days ago, This is just to say…. Thanks, Liz!
Have a magical day, full of fire, spirit and verve.