Joy, Purple and Simple
She sat unnoticed in the corner,
Strumming her guitar with quiet fervor.
Her name was called, and like a spark,
She ran toward us, youthful and stark.
Her hair, untamed, yet free with flair,
A boyish shirt and casual air.
Slimmed face, petite, with Asian eyes,
A modest flower beneath open skies.
Like a seed, her presence grew with time,
February passed, an ordinary climb.
She stood among us, shared her part,
Stories flowing, heart to heart.
I came to know her as my sister small,
And I, her brother, guiding through it all.
I was the director; she played her role,
But now I’m the bee, and she’s my soul.
At first, I sought another bloom,
But her uniqueness brightened the room.
I confessed, though her petals cried,
A fragile beauty she could not hide.
Love, like a plant, grew strong within,
By August, the waiting would begin.
She sat with me in a cozy café,
Sipped her drink, her shyness in display.
Why her, of all the flowers near?
Her charm so simple, her essence clear.
She loves purple, a playful hue,
And in her simplicity, I found my truth.
This poem is but an introduction,
A love story born of pure affection.
Each passing day, my heart proclaims,
Her beauty, her spirit, etched in my veins.
A name engraved, a melody to enjoy,
Three letters long—my heart’s Joy.
Purple and simple, yet endlessly rare,
Forever my love, beyond compare.
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