Sweet maiden, caught in a purple glow
I wonder why, I believe I want to know.
She's inhaling the aroma through her nose.
Would she despise a red, a really red rose?
In a field of lavenders, she comfortably lies
Mesmerized by the purple, and the azure sky.
I still wonder about her, without a clue.
Red blushing cheeks, eyes steel blue.
Maybe a white rose for her, soaked in blood:
A red rose, if it may outcharm her lavenders.
I must approach her in the purple fields-
Where she rests, and where I must kneel.
Not much yards away, her calmness
Overwhelms me, leaves me breathless.
Her eyes closed, far from technical city,
Like an innocent child and no worry.
Caught in the purple glow, smiling,
I can see through her, what she's dreaming.
"No, Red is too damaging, devastating,
Behold my lavenders exotic and pristine.
Merriment, merriment, there's no woe
No more red in the pristine purple snow."
She moved neither lips, yet I heard,
Her eyes closed, ears to the singing birds.
Sweet maiden now I already know,
I'll find you again, lighting the purple glow.
YOU ARE READING
Transcendence
PoetryHello, there readers! For a quick introduction to my work would suit its subtitle- 'A Collection of Scattered Feelings', I have maintained no fixed mood, so that my dear readers may see beyond a specific feeling, to feel it. The moods vary form sli...
