With acknowledgements to the wonderful Jenny Joseph poem “Warning, when I am old”
On Sunday I shall wear yellow,
And celebrate Wiggo even if yellow doesn’t suit me,
And I shall spend my money on a celebratory coffee and cake,
I will ride around and there will be no time for gardening.
I shall sit in my saddle and ride till I’m tired,
Wheel around the countryside and wave to the rest,
And know that we can shout about cycling,
And make up for the years from Anquetil to Armstrong
The challenge is on – if Bradley Wiggins wins the Tour de France on Sunday can we get every Sunday cyclist in the country to wear at least a dash of yellow? I have been folllowing cycle racing for over 40 years and this one has to be celebrated, even the BBC have noticed!
Can cycling’s poets come up with a better poem that starts with the opening line “On Sunday I shall wear yellow”?
The original: From “Warning” Jenny Joseph, 1961
When I 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 the pavement when I am 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.