There's nothing the matter with me, I'm just as healthy as can be, I have arthritis in both knees, And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze. My pulse is weak, my blood is thin, But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in. All my teeth have had to come out, And my diet I hate to think about. I'm overweight and I can't get thin, But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in. And arch supports I need for my feet. Or I wouldn't be able to go out in the street Sleep is denied me night after night, But every morning I find I'm all right. My memory's failing, my head's in a spin But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in. "Old age is golden " I've heard it said But sometimes I wonder, as I go to bed. With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup, And my glasses on a shelf, until I get up. And when sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself, Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf? The reason I know my Youth has been spent, Is my get-up-and-go has far-up-and-went! But really I don't mind, when I think with a grin, Of all the places my get-up has been. I get up each morning and dust off my wits Pick up the paper and read the obits. If my name is missing, I'm therefore not dead. So I eat a good breakfast and jump back into bed. The moral of this as the tale unfolds, Is that for you and me, who are growing old. It is better to say "I'm fine" with a grin, Than to let people know the shape we are in.
When I am an Old Woman (one of my personal favorites for a loonng time) When I am an Old Woman I shall wear purple, with a red hat which doesn't suit me and doesn't go. 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 the flowers in other peoples gardens. And learn to spit. You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat. And eat three pounds of sausage at a go. Or only bread and a 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 will 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 surprized. When suddenly I am old and start to wear purple. by Jenny Joseph
Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got a hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations. ----George Bernard Shaw
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