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
Thanks for that! I had to look it up. Appears to have been published in 1961 when its author was 29 years old. Now she is 84. Wonder if she does wear purple now?
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one.