Purple is royalty. It is a colour that screams opulence in the dullest of times. It’s saturated and vivacious, it demands to been seen. From lavender to eggplant, it’s poised, fashion forward, and timeless. A colour that represents softness and strength. Admired by many, a colour once worn by kings and queens of a distant time. It stands out in nature, it stands out in a crowd. It stands on its own. It elevates and compliments anything that surrounds it. Greens look radiant, browns are magnified, yellows as bright as the sun. Purple is poetic in nature, it is love unequivocally.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Poets and other communities.
The Blue Ridge Stalker
Tom had left the Ford down the way, its spark plugs finally exhausted and no mechanics for a dozen miles back through the foothills to Strossburg. No matter, he had worn his boots—almost as if he planned for this to happen. The puzzle he sought to solve emanated from the woods clinging to the slopes above; the valley behind held no mysteries.
By Stephen A. Roddewig7 days ago in Fiction
Seattle Nightlife Report: Pony
Mid-winter Friday night. Early but already so dark. The days are getting longer but 6 PM is still pitch black. “Firepit!” You declare things after just a few seconds of solemn thought – not a request or suggestion, not a demand. Last week you walked around saying, “Hot tub?” to anyone who would listen. Or one afternoon you pointed at two men holding hands as they crossed 12th Avenue, looked me in the eyes and said, “Boyfriends.”
By Joe Nasta | Seattle foodie poet6 days ago in Wander
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.