This was the prompt for last Sunday. I liked it and decided to come back to it: Pick a color, any color. Then write a poem in which everything is that color (or, at least, that color predominates). The poem doesn’t have to be “about” the color — just dyed with it.
To The Purple
Purple is a sympathetic sigh of the heart
fragmented from compassion.
Purple is regal; purple is spiritual.
Intensified by red, diluted by inky blue,
purple glows with uncommon brilliance.
Purple mourns in an undulating abyss,
unafraid in it's gaudiness,
bubbly as champagne.
Purple is desire surging and spinning,
purple is dark mists shielding us with
gentle stillness long after the
purple shock waves have burrowed in.
2 comments:
"unafraid in it's gaudiness,
bubbly as champagne.
Purple is desire surging and spinning,"
How very pretty that is, Marianne.
Pamela
When I am an old lady, I will...well, you know. ;) I really enjoyed this piece, Marianne. I love "unafraid in its gaudiness..." Beautiful write.
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