You are too old for kicking up your heels, too old for acting the fool, too old for wearing a sleeveless dress and having your hair long; it looks such a mess.
You are too old to wear those boots, they’re for the beautiful, the youthful ones like models and teens. Not old exhibitionists and women unrefined, not sixty-five-year-old Grandma’s with faces all lined.
You shouldn’t wear red at your age, it’s just not the done thing. How can you be taken seriously if you dress like that and as for that hat! What were you thinking, what sort of example do you make? Out wearing lipstick and rouge. Stockingless legs, … I’ve never seen such a thing.
Holding hands in public, are you scared you’ll take a fall? Turn your cheek, an air kiss is best for someone your age. Smile, don’t giggle you are long since being a girl. No dancing, leave it to the young you had your time, and frankly, your time is done.
So, as you can see, I take no notice of being too old for this or that. I dare to be sleeveless and wear a hat, I drink fizz when I want to and dance to a tune. Kick up my heels and occasionally light up a room.
I can stomp at a festival swig drink from a can I can swear like a sailor if the occasion seems right. I can mix with the poor of pocket, those down at heel, as quickly as I converse with any ladies n gents. I can hold court with the best that there is. Because I am no worse or no better, there is no ‘Class’ in how we were bred. Just human beings with thoughts in our heads.
Below, is myself reading the poem for those who want to hear rather than read.
I hope you enjoyed a poem inspired by some of my Mother’s ‘suggestions’ but remember who suggested them. At 91 her thoughts differ somewhat from mine. Let me know in the comments below if you have had any such suggestions I would love to know.