A warm though lonely shore,
The tide reflects a violet sheen;
The scent of lilacs fills the air,
Reminding me of where I've been.
The gardens that my mother grew,
With orchids, plums, and periwinkles;
I take the scent and feel the mauve
In my head, I hear purple twinkles.
I taste the distant, sad yet merry
Hue of peaceful, calm mulberry;
I look upon the island divine,
And remember the sweet amaranthine.