(for Mr R. M. Rainsbury)
Allotted span of threescore years and ten
and then one more to celebrate the rest,
to wait and speculate on whether fate
has something up her sleeve, new game to play,
after the fine excess of seventy springs.

A year of celebration and of hope
yet, looking back, I see it as a year
taut with expectancy, and fraught with fear;
the passing days were a kaleidoscope
as childhood dreams and visions rocked the dark.

Some women wear bright colours to deceive
themselves and others facing bitter truth;
wearing my purple with a jaunty air,
leaving a trail of perfume in my wake,
I flaunt my vaunted courage in the street.
Tomorrow brings new knowledge where I stand
in freedom with my thoughts and my desires,
wearing the pattern of my vibrant year
for all to see the colours that appeared
and glowed more strongly through long months of doubt.