Skip to main content

PURPLE CARNIVAL


On a clear Autumn evening, the sky is a splash of feeble purple, a hybrid of Lavender laced with Heather. It's a garden of blooms in the sky with streaks of Fuchsia and Mulberry, a medley of regalia. That's how my favorite person is. 

A pale Violet, the vintage elegance of a timeless sundress as she twirls away to heart's content without a care in the world. Plum is the zing of the freshness a wine ushers in on a barbeque evening. The seasonal blueberry ice cream bars with drizzles of Lilac are the cool respite I look forward to and find in her company.

Byzantine is a powerful stance as she holds her audience captive. An incandescent Mauve is soothing with her tone and forthcoming promises. A lustrous Amethyst wise beyond her years, dazzles us. Periwinkle is a whisper of her charming heart's desire. Iris although dainty, exudes confidence rooted and balanced. 

Cornflower and Orchid blend in an encrusted tiara woven to mark a gorgeous splendor .

Wisteria is an enigma yet speaks to my soul , is in sync with my heartbeat and a cosmic serenade we had promised each other. All the moods and hues of purple are a sacred, positive aura radiating sapphire dust. 

A purple jamboree humming and waltzing into the deepest Indigo of a moonlit night.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Moxie N' Mettle

                                MOXIE N' METTLE  In slivers and fragments as my sleep tiptoes, did I do right or wrong my heart needles… Some skies are born of black holes and tempest wreck,  There glitters not a ray of light, nor a speck When curtains turbid hold all light hostage,  Sandstorms, hailstorms, dust storms, snowstorms, windstorms assail and ravage Spanning my wings as a raging fire  Or as a mellow glow of a fairy light in the distant darkness, quite debonaire I'll ignite my spark from within like a star born into itself spurting lava Or explode leaving trails of cosmic dust like a Supernova I will be the Sun creating galaxies and many a constellation.  Or burn like a single flame of the candle to keep my hopes and dreams alive with determination! I will be at my own pace I will be whoever and whatever I want to be—in my own race Collapse, crash and crumble! But I'll...

CLOGYRNACH ( Day 8, Soul Craft Poetry)

                          CLOGYRNACH  How time flies, they grow up too soon When they'd bawled you'd shown them the moon Your mirror image Feels she's in a cage Stomping rage! 'Teen Typhoon' Pic Courtesy: Soul Craft  ©️ Sangeetha Kamath Clogyrnach, Welsh poetic form is typically a six-line syllabic stanza with an ab rhyme scheme: Line 1: 8 syllables with an a rhyme Line 2: 8 syllables with an a rhyme Line 3: 5 syllables with a b rhyme Line 4: 5 syllables with a b rhyme Line 5: 3 syllables with a b rhyme Line 6: 3 syllables with an a rhyme.

WHEN THE SHARDS SING, the BEAST AWAKENS( DAY 22, LETTER W)

                         CHAPTER 21  WHEN THE SHARDS SING, the BEAST                                   AWAKENS  Dawn was hours away, but nobody at Meadow Brook Cottage was sleeping.   The stew was gone. The bread was devoured. The porridge pot was polished clean. The berry tart for dessert existed only as stains on Dapper’s snout. Tasha slept by the hearth, her milk cup clutched to her like a shield. The Knights Army sat around the scarred oak table, full-bellied and hollow-eyed, because Papa Koala’s words were still heavy in the air. As they pored over the map, Tasha roused from her sleep and knocked over her milk cup. Her milk cup rolled across the floorboards, hit the table and stopped dead against the oaken leg directly under the crystal apple. Both the objects buzzed in sync. Tasha whimpered in her sleep and t...

JOURNEY MOST TREACHEROUS ( DAY 23, LETTER J)

                            CHAPTER 22           JOURNEY MOST TREACHEROUS  The plan was set. With a departure set before daybreak they would easily avoid the pig patrols, reaching Mistwood Shadow Glade before the Mighty Boar knew their agenda.  As they filed out to grab minimal winks of sleep that wouldn’t come, the crystal apple sat alone in the dark, throwing tiny red constellations across the ceiling in the library. Watching. Waiting. They packed ammo for the battle of the ages.  "Mistwood Shadow Glade is three days away. Day one: Cross the dell before twilight or the pig scouts sniff out your wake.  Day Two: Skirt around the Bone Fields. Better still, avoid it altogether! We take shortcuts through low lying rivers. Water hides our scent. Day three: Reach the fringes of the Mistwood Shadow Glade. Keep the shards from getting activated along the way. No fires after dusk. ...

GATES TO THE VAULT( DAY 24, LETTER G)

                         CHAPTER 23                  GATES TO THE VAULT  Three days of trudging, trekking and aching muscles later, the cozy, sunlit, honeyed woods of Bramble Shire were miles behind them.  At the edge of the deep, fog covered forest, a wispy figure appeared before them –The Guardian Maiden, Blaire barricading their way. "What do you seek in Mistwood Shadow Glade?" Her voice was the soft breeze that twirled around them. Ethereal!  Hopper stepped forward gingerly. "The Locke Jewel. The last shard to piece together the Starwood Crystal. Where’s it hidden?" Blaire pursed her lips. "I’ll trade, as you know. Tell me your deepest secret. One you’d kill to hide." Chipper tensed. Hopper hesitated. There was a lot at stake, when she prodded, “The Pigs are closing in. Time is of the essence here, Rabbit ! If you don’t choose, you lose." Papa Koala warned, " ...