Somewhere on the Way
by: Pete Roche

I wanted to say a lot of things;
I wanted to say how often lately
Your bright image has wandered through
The dusty old antique shop of my mind;
I wanted to say how good it is
To wake up in the morning
Knowing that the day contains
Something that is you.

I wanted to say a lot of things;
I wanted to talk about
The changing colour of moments,
The silent, secret language
Of bodies making love,
I wanted to say that you
Are always only as far from me
As thoughts are from thinking.

I wanted to say
I love you
In fourteen foreign languages
But most of all (most
difficult of all) in English.
I wanted to say a lot of things,
But they all seem to have lost themselves
Somewhere on the way; and now I'm here
There's nothing I can say except
Hallo, and
Yes, I'd like some coffee, and
What shall we find to takl about
Before the night burns out?

Warning
by: Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat that 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'. 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 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 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 will have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old and start to wear purple.