Lying in a  blossom field
on the grass between lavenders
The sun is shining right on me
while a breeze is touching
purple royal flowers tender.
A heavy scent is in the air
Ascending up to heaven
I close my eyes  pretend to sleep
while  being quite enchanted.
With you lying here next to me
tenderly caressing cheeks
I am in lovers heaven.

Shell✨🐚

You are not a wolf, my sweet.
You are not all that’s wrong with your world.
You are not the silver bullets
your fingertips let slip away,
you are not the knife at her throat.

You, my darling,
are a prince in disguise.
You, my dear,
are the bloodied rabbit
who wriggled your way from the fox.
You, my love,
are the villain who escaped
the prison of your own imperfect poison.

You are the laughter I feel on my lips.
The cracked song of a crinkled French lullaby.
The memories of a duet passed down through the ages.

You are the pain in between my heartbeats.
The open door after a wave of tears.
A bandage that will only separate
from a soul after a lifetime of picking.

You are the sweet, sugary lies I could only hope to believe.
The maze I long to get lost in.
The fountain which clings to my youth.
The fairytale I choose to believe.

You are tied to the girl who fell at your hand.
You traded a wrinkled suit in order
to join her in within the stars.
A crown of gold for the shine of a barrel.

You are tied to the girl whose blood matches yours.
The girl whose purple flowers you’d never trade
for the twinkling power of another’s eyes.
A hero in denial with other matters at hand.

You are tied to the girl whose future
lies in between the pages of a story.
The girl who ran into the woods
leaving your soul empty as the blackest of nights.

You are not an angel.
You are far from a demon.

A sky in purple hue!
Of turnips, roots, and green!
A purple-starred tree-blowing veil!
The stars in sky not black or mean!
And piercing winds that eat sinew,
That sheds the sky in fabric leaves;
I couldn't more describe this night
Its colours awe as I inscribe!

near you
everything is purple
near you
all things are beautiful
near you
the sky gets downward
I can collect the stars
And put them as necklace
Which become wonderful
As the reflect your shine
And the sun get smile
As she tries to get your
Smile
Near you
The land becomes green
The peace covers every where
The birds sing one song
Contain a word
You
And your name

You who stirred the words into my soul,
Brought them to life, animated them
With allegory and wit.
As if the Nine Muses had sung to my ear,
And Calliope herself had donned me
With the poems she'd once writ.

Or Sappho of ******, among secretive violets,
Absorbed by the lyre, she pens to revive it;
Not the song, or the tune,
But the calm way the song moved
The violets across the field-
This inspiration, she could wield.

Don't you see now, how it's not poetry the poet will choose?
For every poem the poet pens one shall require an equal Muse.

Purple Amethyst
Beneath my tongue, keeps me from
Inebriation

They float and fly,
Ascending to a place
Much higher in the sky
Though little see how they chase
You into yet another cry.
But you accept it, just in case
You fail to come by
And deliver your final good bye.

Purple balloons soar
As he enters an endless sleep
To which escape is no more.

Purple balloons
Much higher in the sky
Coldly whisper;
'Good bye'.