Well, I haven't been doing a very good job at sticking to the bi-monthly blog post resolution - so here's an old poem that will hopefully make up for it:
As far as hues are concerned she is purple.
No scent or sound,
No texture or taste,
Just a blotch of color in a rainbow of shades.
Beautiful of course, but never something more –
Never something different.
Naturally, she can be altered –
Paler, darker, brighter, deeper.
She can take the form of a beautiful butterfly
Sailing smoothly through still air,
Or a lazy, land-locked hippo.
Even the syllables of her name can be changed –
Lilac, violet, lavender,
Or ‘Lila’ by German tongue.
But the roots of her purpose are never destroyed.
Still, she is only purple.
Just another color in an endless heaven of hues,
Just a single flower in a rainbow garden,
She is a song for the eyes, but otherwise useless –
Only then, when a blanket of black eerily covers the colors,
Is she more than just a pigment –
More than just purple.
Somehow different than before, she is needed now –
But still, she remains unchanged –
The same as what she always was,
She is purple.