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.