Sheila Charles THE PURPLE DRESS
We spend at least ten years being taught.
If we carry on studying, more.
So we come into contact with lots of superiors.
So many, I haven’t kept score.
What I have realized, though it could be just me,
Is that what I remember the most
Are the critical remarks that were made
As opposed to the one compliment of which I can boast.
As I didn’t shine at anything much,
Commendations were few
But I did have a pleasant singing voice
So one time, I got a breakthrough –
I was asked to sing a solo at school
But sadly my nerves let me down
And the girl who conducted, sang MY part. I was briefly the talk of the town!
I was told, in no uncertain terms,
I would never be asked again
And I wasn’T at least, not at grammar school.
Later on in my life – now and then.
But another remark stuck in my mind.
At TEacher’s College, one day,
I was wearing a new, pale purple dress,
When I heard the lecture say,
“That’s an old person’s colour, Sheila.
You are far too young to wear that.”
That was all. Nothing else. Short and sweet.
No further comment. No chit chat.
I STILL think about Miss Standring
Saying that to me.
Because now I AM an old person –
At over seventy, you’d have to agree.
And I do wear purple outfits.
Now why do I still say out loud,
“I can wear purple now, Miss Standring.”
AND I LOOK UP AS IF SHE’S THERE ON A CLOUD!
illustration by ume-nori
