August 2010: I wrote a poem for my mother. In ten minutes. On my Blackberry.
You're not the angelic boredom of white
Or the happy-stupid of yellow
Or grey that's mellow
Or the creeping gluttony of green.
Would you really choose black
Or blue?
(Which hue of blue do you think is you?)
Or the bubblegumness of airhead pink
Would you ever really choose brown ink?
Do you really think
That the depthless orange
Tells true tales
Of all the women that you are
Of your travels wide and far
Of your deeps and shallows
Your intensity passion and courage?
Does it lilt like your laughter...
Why settle for (your favourite) angry red?
When you can be purple instead!
You're a purple, my dear mama.
The intensity and experience of rich blue
Swathed in the salty-sweet-sour-bitter syrup of life
The giggliness and freshness of unjaded pink
In one whole multifaceted packet of perfection. Purple.
This poem was written in August 2010.