Sunday, January 22, 2012

My Favorite Things - My Favorite Poem

As I start to get my debt under control, I find myself wanting to share more things on my blog. I've decided to start a new series called "My Favorite Things", where I share something I like with the readers. You can also share your favorite if you are interested :)


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.

Question : What is your favorite poem?


  1. I really like this poem, she has such a great attitude.
    It's too hard to pick one favourite, I love Tennyson, T.S Eliot and Banjo Patterson.

    1. It is hard to pick! She does have a great attitude and I hope I do when I get older too :)

  2. This is one of my moms favorite poems..and now that she is retired she has been known to live out a few of them.

    1. Your mom sounds like a hoot! I actually look forward to my older years when I can act some of them out too :)

  3. To Dorothy by Marvin Bell

    You are not beautiful, exactly.
    You are beautiful, inexactly.
    You let a weed grow by the mulberry
    And a mulberry grow by the house.
    So close, in the personal quiet
    Of a windy night, it brushes the wall
    And sweeps away the day till we sleep.

    A child said it, and it seemed true:
    "Things that are lost are all equal."
    But it isn't true. If I lost you,
    The air wouldn't move, nor the tree grow.
    Someone would pull the weed, my flower.
    The quiet wouldn't be yours. If I lost you,
    I'd have to ask the grass to let me sleep.

    For me it is sad and beautiful all at the same time - it is by far my most favorite and always will be.

    1. What a beautiful poem! Thank you for sharing it :)

  4. this is my favorite poem.