(Originally a writing exercise in a creative writing class I took several years ago.)
My shade is mysterious.
I am the product of a primary combination.
I am as graceful as fresh cut lilacs on the kitchen table caught in the warm rays of the morning sun.
I am as soothing as a lingering lavender bubble bath at the end of a long and tiring day.
I smell of tender violets and taste like an icy, grape Popsicle dripping down your chin in the hot summer sun.
After the rain, I am often the lower arc of the rainbow.
I am as sweet as the plumpest of plums and as full-bodied as vintage wine.
On a bad day, they call me Mauve!
When I’m all dressed up, they call me Amethyst.
My friends just call me...
Purple.
My shade is mysterious.
I am the product of a primary combination.
I am as graceful as fresh cut lilacs on the kitchen table caught in the warm rays of the morning sun.
I am as soothing as a lingering lavender bubble bath at the end of a long and tiring day.
I smell of tender violets and taste like an icy, grape Popsicle dripping down your chin in the hot summer sun.
After the rain, I am often the lower arc of the rainbow.
I am as sweet as the plumpest of plums and as full-bodied as vintage wine.
On a bad day, they call me Mauve!
When I’m all dressed up, they call me Amethyst.
My friends just call me...
Purple.
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