Recently i've started getting a lot of mail forwards from friends that take a substantial amount of LOL digs on getting old, anatomically and otherwise. But after the laughter is over and after i have forwarded them in turn to those whom i choose to i have a serious question i feel like sharing with others. Do we really get old ? If some lines and spots, additional adipose, health related issues... if that is synonymous with aging then maybe yes. But isn't it ironical that although physically we may seem to be aging mentally we are getting younger and younger. Alas! if everyone understood that then what a wonderful world it would be. Sometimes i have this mad urge to shake up all those people who consider themselves to be too old for some harmless nonsense and say, " C'mon it's raining!! let's go and sail some paper boats and jump around in the mud splashing muddy water on each other..."
Oh i want to go on and on but words do fail me to make it as interesting as Jenny Joseph. In her poem 'Warning' which has been re titled by so many other names she had put it all there. All that i wanted to say.
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 the 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 for 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.
i wished to forward a poetry to my friends but these days not many are enthusiastic about humorless sensibilities. Everybody seems to prefer truth in a manner that should have sprinklings of humor here and there. And i am quite poor in that skill. Nevertheless since i had this with me i thought it better to paste it for all those like me who care to read somethings spoken from the heart even when there is nothing sounding funny there. Sure laughter is good i agree but too many laughable words sometimes fail to elicit that laughter in the heart. Rather it tends to make one feel small and low. Then in such times words like these sooth the senses and calm us back to normalcy.
When we are young with supple skin,
Firm breasts high we wear a proud grin,
Arch our backs and stand tall,
Wanting our beauty to be admired by all.
Hearing how beautiful you are each day,
Gives your spirit a boost in such a way,
Then slowly over the years we hear it less,
Age starts to take it`s toll I guess.
Then when we hear it brings a smile,
Simply because we havent heard it in a while,
Although the same person still within,
No longer wearing such a proud grin.
Society judges by looks too much,
So as we age we seem to lose touch,
With what the true meaning of beauty is,
I have always thought it was this...
Comes from the inside my Dad used to say,
Because there it can never be taken away,
So hold it dear and near to your heart,
And with it dont ever dare to part.
For inner beauty is what makes us unique,
Then he would give me my kiss on the cheek,
I truly believe what he says is right,
So I hold it near and dear every night.
May not show on the outside anymore,
But I have a key to open the door,
To all my beauty that makes me shine,
Open that door and you`ll always be mine.
i think this should be all for the time being. Wishing all those who visit my page a very good week ahead and all these lovely colors :)