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Fifty

FIFTY

 
Eccentricity has always appealed
Now at fifty I feel a freedom to be
Happy, sad, playful, joyful
All the things that are authentically me
I love teddy bears and yes I talk to them
They don’t answer me, which is just as well
There’s a line between eccentricity and neurosis
I’ve occasionally crossed it I’m not ashamed to tell
Over fifty years I have grown in wisdom
I don’t think I’ll be crossing that line again
Because I know myself and I like myself
I no longer feel any need to pretend
I walked down Chapel Street in a purple feather boa
Carrying my darling mate Ted E Bare
Some people smiled, others gave me a wide berth
But quite frankly I don’t care
What others think of me is no longer important
It’s how I see myself that brings me peace
I’m no stranger to sorrow and suffering
I walk side by side with grief
Yet within me lives a childlike joy
An appreciation for the beauty nature displays
By accepting and living each sensation that arises
I survive the sad and relish the joyful days
From this freedom to be who I am
Flows an acceptance for others to be
Authentically living in truth to themselves
We all have the right to be free
As I explore how I feel deep within
I find I love being fifty years old
I am who I am and that’s comfortably
Reubenesque, courageous and bold
Thoughtful, forthright, honest and open
Aware that I still have a lot to learn
I struggle with the concept of limitations
But I’ll get to that in its turn
Yes I’m fifty and slightly eccentric
Trying to contribute my bit to this world we all share
And ‘though fifty doesn’t look like twenty
My cupboard of beauty is far from bare
 
Tricia 12/2000
 
The above poem is almost 12 years old, but I’ve been having a wee debate with a journalist on the Huffington Post about women who play with dolls. This poem was my final retort.
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