like the soothing calm of falling rain
sweet side of red
like the charming smell of roses
like melting chocolate on the tongue
There was a flowery mixing of pink and blue and purple yesterday
Making of the yard a purplicious, pinkish, bluish sort of palette.
The innocence of pale pink was tinged with bolder magenta
While a sparkly pink sat mid-throat in a deep blue morning glory
Thrilling the bees and me almost as much as the pink chiffon of dusk and
The heavenly shades of night’s deep purple fallingl over sleepy garden walls.
That which we love as purple by any other name would be just as grand:
Threads of amethyst in the divine tapestry interwoven upon demand.
The winter of life is embellished in buoyant dimensions of purple strands.
Like in The Color Purple, I wander through in purple pastures when I can.
Each majestic mauve and passive purple proves there’s no need to be sad.
Were the world mine, all of Earth’s shores would be rife with purple sand,
And I would request sparkly purple sunshine if nature granted me the chance.
~Edited poem by Ryan John Payne
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. ~Psalm 139:7-10 ✝