When I am an old woman, I will wear purple!
Yes, and hot pink with roses that smell
(if you scratch them) so wonderfully well!
I shall wear my purple and pink in the fall
and not worry should 'looks' follow, wherever I stall.
and never get up until I am done.
Yes, wearing purple I'll feel such a queen,
and won't mind a bit when some watch me preen.
In fact, I'll enjoy a sneak peak now and then
just to see if they wonder, and smile once again.
I'll wear my bright purple and feed squirrels and birds,
enjoying their friendship without any words.
Yes, sharing these songs of the feathered and furry,
I'll hear all the sounds of this world without worry.
Green leaves rustle tunes for each season they last,
till winter has come and their sound is all past.
Those greyed branches that tremble and lift to the sky
are rooted in earth that holds spring's bright sigh!
So, aging and newness walk life altogether,
and holding each other they face any weather.
For spring comes again, and then summer's bloom,
before autumn's cooling portrays winter's loom...
Ah! And I have worn purple, and looked in the eye
of each day and each storm that has come and passed by!
Sure, wearing my roses and bright purple hue,
I'll smile at the world and...perhaps at you too!
(While you may be thinking 'You'll wear purple too!)
Author Unknown
Comments