Everyone who knows me knows that I love purple. Every shade, tint, and hue. From the darkest, deepest perse of the midnight sky to the fainting amethyst of the last stalk of lavender before the first frost.

We have an oil of a purple mandala hanging above our fireplace. A flower, sublimely painted by an artist friend of ours, Clayton Peterson. The raindrops are spectacular.

But around the house other colors abound. An almost-neon seascape print with an apricot sunset graces our walls alongside a kaleidoscope rabbit painted in thick oils on a reclaimed board as its canvas.

The remaining pieces in our house, though, have very little color in them. My eyes must need a rest. I am strongly drawn to monochromatic hues in browns and pale yellows or grays.

And not to forget the other “colors” in which I imbibe, I delight in a spectrum of sparkles.  I’m six-years-old again as I ooh and aww at the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London or while making a wish to try on those red ruby slippers of Dorothy’s. I love to run my hand through piles of rainbow colored sequins and watch them catch the light as they cascade through my fingers.

At Tweetspeak Poetry, Clair Burge shared some of her delicious photos in her post Image-ine: color seduction. The colors she captured make me want to re-paint each and every wall in my house. And all the chroma would be plucked from her radiant photos.

While I can’t do that, I can share my poem. A poem of hope as Clair suggested? Maybe not, but one of love.

Yellow

1
When the indifferent world
awoke this morn
I reached to your sallow hand
resting gently on your breast
rising and falling with each shallow breath

The creamy silk of your kimono
spread across your refuge
an amber pyre
igniting your shrinking frame

I remember the rustling
of your saffron skirts
bustling through the room
a memory fading over the years

I am anxious this last sunrise
not be remembered
by your diminishing countenance
but by your luscious laughter
halcyon rose petals
steeping the air
with your sweetness

2
Through the wheaten sheers
the glint of mid-day dances
across your motionless face
lighting citrine sparks through
your flaxen curls
encircling your head
a glimmering crown framing
your once aureate smile

I celebrate the memory of your radiance
lingering in the afternoon garden
daffs and calla lilies
blushing at your touch

3
Eventide brings a calming
of the brilliant splendor
in your now honeyed cheeks

My lips touch those
you once sweetened with quince
Aphrodite perfuming her kiss
a kiss now absolute

Unobtrusively
in a whisper
mortality meets perfection
your candlelight dissolves
Into a waxen pool

Luminosity greets you
leaving behind
a tawny afterglow
lighting the darkness
of my soul