My heart is low, my heart is so low,
As only a woman's heart can be.
As only a woman, as only a woman's,
As only a woman's heart can know.

The tears that drip from my bewildred eyes,
Taste of bittersweet romance.
You're still in my hopes,
You're still on my mind,
And even though I manage on my own.

My heart is low, my heart is so low,
As only a woman's heart can be.
As only a woman, as only a woman's
As only a woman's heart can know.

When restless eyes reveal my troubled soul
And memories flood my weary heart.
I mourn for my dreams,
I mourn for my wasted love,
While I know that I'll survive alone.

My heart is low, my heart is so low,
As only a woman's heart can be.
As only a woman, as only a woman's,
As only a woman's heart can know.

                           ~~~~~ Eleanor McEvoy

"
Only A Woman's Heart", is sung by Mary Black and
EmmyLou Harris
Only A Woman's Heart
When I Am An Old Woman I
Shall Wear Purple
When I Am An Old Woman I
Shall Wear Purple
My heart is low, my heart is so low,
As only a woman's heart can be.
As only a woman, as only a woman's,
As only a woman's heart can know.

The tears that drip from my bewildred eyes,
Taste of bittersweet romance.
You're still in my hopes,
You're still on my mind,
And even though I manage on my own.

My heart is low, my heart is so low,
As only a woman's heart can be.
As only a woman, as only a woman's
As only a woman's heart can know.

When restless eyes reveal my troubled soul
And memories flood my weary heart.
I mourn for my dreams,
I mourn for my wasted love,
While I know that I'll survive alone.

My heart is low, my heart is so low,
As only a woman's heart can be.
As only a woman, as only a woman's,
As only a woman's heart can know.

                           ~~~~~ Eleanor McEvoy

"
Only A Woman's Heart", is sung by Mary Black and
EmmyLou Harris
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple,
With a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy
and summer gloves and satin sandals,
and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on pavement
when I'm tired
and gobble up samples in shops
and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the
public railings
And make up for the sobriety of
my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in
the rain
And pick the flowers in other
people's gardens
And learn to spit.
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple,
With a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy
and summer gloves and satin sandals,
and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on pavement
when I'm tired
and gobble up samples in shops
and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the
public railings
And make up for the sobriety of
my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in
the rain
And pick the flowers in other
people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausage at a go.
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and
things in boxes.

But now, we must have clothes to keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now? So
People who know me are not to shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

                                          ~~~~ By Jenny Joseph, 1961
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausage at a go.
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and
things in boxes.

But now, we must have clothes to keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now? So
People who know me are not to shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

                                          ~~~~ By Jenny Joseph, 1961
It's Me !!!
(This poem is really a story and has always been my favorite. It's
about an old woman in a nursing home in Dundee, Scotland, who
was alone and near death and after her death, a poem she had
written was found. Her poem so touched everyone that has read it,
that it has been published countless times all around the world. The
old woman is unknown, but her story is one we will all know one
day.)
(This poem is really a story and has always been my favorite. It's
about an old woman in a nursing home in Dundee, Scotland, who
was alone and near death and after her death, a poem she had
written was found. Her poem so touched everyone that has read it,
that it has been published countless times all around the world. The
old woman is unknown, but her story is one we will all know one
day.)
What do you see, nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you look at me?
A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try".
Who seems not to notice the things that you do
and forever is losing a stocking or shoe.

Who, resisting or not, let's you do as you will
With bathing and feeding and giving me pills.
Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes nurse; you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
And do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of ten...with
a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters that
love one another.
A young girl of sixteen, with
wings on her feet,
Dreaming of soon now a
lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at twenty---My
heart gives a leap
Remembering the vows that I
promised to keep.
At twenty-five now, I have
young of my own
Who need me to provide
them a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty, my young now growing fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.
At sixty, once more babies play at my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead.
I look at the future and I shudder with dread,
For my young ones are all rearing young of their own
And I think of the years and the love I've known.
I'm now an old woman..... and nature is cruel,
Tis just to make old people look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells
And now and again, my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life all over again.
I think of the years...all too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes people, open and see,
not a crabby old woman; look closer,
It's Me!!!!!
I'm a small child of ten...with
a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters that
love one another.
A young girl of sixteen, with
wings on her feet,
Dreaming of soon now a
lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at twenty---My
heart gives a leap
Remembering the vows that I
promised to keep.
At twenty-five now, I have
young of my own
Who need me to provide
them a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty, my young now growing fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.
At sixty, once more babies play at my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead.
I look at the future and I shudder with dread,
For my young ones are all rearing young of their own
And I think of the years and the love I've known.
I'm now an old woman..... and nature is cruel,
Tis just to make old people look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells
And now and again, my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life all over again.
I think of the years...all too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes people, open and see,
not a crabby old woman; look closer,
It's Me!!!!!
The Beauty Of A Woman
The Beauty Of A Woman
The beauty of a woman is not in the
clothes she wears, The figure she
carries, or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen
from her eyes, because that is the
doorway to her heart, the place where
love resides.

The beauty of a woman is not in a facial
mole, But true beauty of a woman is
reflected in her soul.

It's the caring that she loving gives, the
passion that she shows.

The beauty of a woman, with passing
years, only grows.

                              ~~~~Sam Levenson
The beauty of a woman is not in the
clothes she wears, The figure she
carries, or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen
from her eyes, because that is the
doorway to her heart, the place where
love resides.

The beauty of a woman is not in a facial
mole, But true beauty of a woman is
reflected in her soul.

It's the caring that she loving gives, the
passion that she shows.

The beauty of a woman, with passing
years, only grows.

                              ~~~~Sam Levenson
Only A Woman's Heart
Links
Jokes/Cartoons
What do you see, nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you look at me?
A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try".
Who seems not to notice the things that you do
and forever is losing a stocking or shoe.

Who, resisting or not, let's you do as you will
With bathing and feeding and giving me pills.
Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes nurse; you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
And do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.