An Ode to MSOC.The Lady

This poem is dedicated to you, for all that you are, for all that you will be.  There is a time when a woman just has to yell it out, scream it out, and you are our time.  The hell with what society thinks, or the hell with what our parents may think.  Just be you, and we will follow, MSOC, you are the voice of so many who just do not have the nerve to speak up, or to scream up, and we love you for being that voice.

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red which doesn't  go, and doesn't suit me
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer glove
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 Warning:   by Jenny Joseph
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 I other people's gardens
And learn to spit!

You can wear terrible shirts and grow fatter
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickles 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 and are too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.