Jonni's 90 Today

Today is the 90th. birthday of a very remarkable lady, I am proud to have known her as a work colleague and friend for a little over forty years.  Jonni Stratton-Brook is an inspiring conversationalist and correspondent, she eschews modern forms of communication and the abbreviations of the tweet or text relying on her amazing grasp of the English language to enthral the listener or recipient of her prose.
In 1999 she published an anthology of her poetry and verse, entitled 'Twigs', it covers a sample of her work from 1942 to 1999 and includes some poems by family and friends.

               

The Wonders                                                                 1998

I, being old, find nowadays that there is less to lose.
Each day sees retrocession of the old taboos
Which took themselves so seriously and meant so much.
What was their point? I used them as a crutch
To lend support when things got out of hand
In situations I found difficult to understand.
Times or occasions need not be so tense.
I, being old, have gained some common sense.
Words now may take their place in conversation
But not engulf me in that cold sensation
Which followed when I said an awkward thing.
Now - if I wish - I walk along and sing.
I, being old, see many things so clear
Compared with doubt-filled fears of yesteryear.
Faces on buses are a new delight.
I have developed keener, deeper sight.
Flowers embrace me. Brass bands, which once I hated,
Move me to tears, yet make me feel elated.
Weather's no longer such a source of pain
Despite the aching joints which herald rain,
For, like St.Francis who could call it "Brother",
I understand rain now, and I discover
That when the thought of Winter's on my mind
I have the feeling even snow's meant to be kind.
Manged dogs and scrawny cats do not deter;
Youths on their Sons of Thunder range the street,
Ripping the village air, frightening my feet.
Being old, I find I can more easily ignore
Their loud uncaring passage by my door.
Music, which always gave each day an extra grace
Transports me now to almost edgeless space.
The irritants like housework are not there.
Each person a collectors item: strange and rare,
Filling my memory against the day when I
May not have chance to meet them eye to eye.
My mirror shows my skin to me: deep-lined
Yet if I only try, I usually find
There is a long and fascinating list of things untold
Which fill my life with wonder, I being old.

Just a thought about the advantages of becoming a Senior Citizen... an Old Age Pensioner... an Old Lady... an Old Man... a Wrinkly... or whatever!
                                                                              Jonni Stratton-Brook