Apology to Purple

The words that make up the visual language are the shades and hues
That speak statements of dramatic flare as they collide and flood
The page with layers of poppy pinks, grass greens, and berry blues.
Colors are the artist’s life blood. Colors are my life blood.

One day, a heated hatred for purple swirled in my soul.
It was the color claimed by the manipulative monster of a girl
Who mistreated my lover in his last life. I was reminded of all she stole
Whenever palettes of purple popped up around me in the world.

Purple appears in the late evening sky with gentle grace
And gifts great expanses with lavender lilacs that smile in the sunlight.
Purple’s natural, dreamy elegance presents itself from place to place.
The view of violet enlivens sight. It’s a shame we got in a fight.

I’m sorry, Purple, for the grudge I held against you.
Purple, because of you, my art stands beautiful and true.