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Dorothy Parker - The Little Old Lady In Lavender Silk
Work rating: Medium

	I was seventy-seven, come August,
	  I shall shortly be losing my bloom;
	I`ve experienced zephyr and raw gust
	  And (symbolical) flood and simoom.

	When you come to this time of abatement,
	  To this passing from Summer to Fall,
	It is manners to issue a statement
	  As to what you got out of it all.

	So I`ll say, though reflection unnerves me
	  And pronouncements I dodge as I can,
	That I think (if my memory serves me)
	  There was nothing more fun than a man!

	In my youth, when the crescent was too wan
	  To embarrass with beams from above,
	By the aid of some local Don Juan
	  I fell into the habit of love.

	And I learned how to kiss and be merry- an
	  Education left better unsung.
	My neglect of the waters Pierian
	  Was a scandal, when Grandma was young.

	Though the shabby unbalanced the splendid,
	  And the bitter outmeasured the sweet,
	I should certainly do as I then did,
	  Were I given the chance to repeat.

	For contrition is hollow and wraithful,
	  And regret is no part of my plan,
	And I think (if my memory`s faithful)
	  There was nothing more fun than a man!
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