When I grow old I'll primp and pose,
Poetry by Charlene Mills
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and wear my lipstick thick.
I'll paint my nails a deepish red,
Then I'll pretend I'm sick.
I'll faint upon the fainting couch,
get all the attention that I can.
'cause you see, when I get old,
I'll want to catch a man.
I'll buy new clothes and a feathered hat,
and a sequined purse, for style.
and sequined shoes, in bright, bright gold,
I'll need to make him smile.
No house dress I would ever wear,
Instead a shiny gown.
He might ask me then to dance,
If so, I will not frown.
My jewelry shall be fine and fair,
Bright bracelets I shall wear.
A necklace shall adorn my dress,
As though I didn't care.
We'll swirl and swirl, and then we'll
dance the night away.
We'll waltz and waltz, the ballroom we will share.
When I grow old,I'll surely do a lot,
but first, I must get up from my chair.
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