Until the morning’s dazzle,
she never knew the night
had stripped her eyes
of the ability to perceive colour,
.
and her blindness did not
offend. She groped and
cursed and stumbled
but assumed that all
.
of life was grey, tinted
with shadowy brush.
She didn’t even know
she was purple; to see
.
herself in sunshine
is a delicious shock.
She inhales the
rainbow feast of it
.
all and her dreams
are Technicolor,
Northern Lights
dancing to an internal
.
spectrum, ribbons curled
in amethyst flourish. She
thinks this colour-coded
freedom might be – joy.
.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
What a beautiful poem and photo, Melody! Thank you!
Thanks Debbie!
Lovely poem, and the pic is gorgeous.
Thank you!
Oh WOW-Wonderful, Mel–this is another 5-Star fave of mine! I really got “into” the flower’s persona–so now, tell me what flower is it?
This is a clematis, a climbing vine. It is smothered in purple right now – I have never seen it so perfectly lovely as t is right now. What a treat.
Smothered in purple–I love the royal pomp and ceremony of it! While I’m here, I have a garden/flower question for you: are there roses that come up annually or perennially, maybe like a wild variety??
Yep. Ours up here are pink and smell like a little slice of heaven. I would imagine that you would have some wild ones, if we do…
Great picture.
Thanks! The clematis is outdoing itself this year – beautiful!!