it is cool autumn!
sweet, delicious ruby grapes!
have a good evening!
unripe nice cute grapes
among the vibrant green leaves
emerald pendants
.
eager to learn uv
it's sweet
to learn az another
how vitriol
it's all
raisin'd up
oh how cute
natheless (i'm edvard)
it's wrinkled sheath
mine wanton
tuh twixt
tickle
thuh crease
only find
to
hiding
'neath it's thick sheath
bitter meet
*meet spell'd with the astute
think ")
As I sit gazing upon the unsympathetic clock.
Wiling away these last few dread filled hours.
Stirring my tea, or is it stirring me?
Confusion reigns.
My weary eyes plummet toward the newest envelope on the oak birthed table.
The Violet Grape Purple one, fore it is pregnant with the last love filled endowments of my now ex-wife.
Before when I had the guiltless luck to call her mine.
Or am I at fault?
Either way the staring envelope is all that reminds me.
Why did you have to come in the post just as I was forgetting?
Just when I was becoming too tired to care, about her presence in my bed , in my soul.
Reap me , tear me, but please don't remind me of her.
Wildflowers and persimmons the power in her laugh.
At long last I can stand no more, I gather the mocking, accursed letter and in a rush in a chair I alight.
By the fire I strain to throw you in.
I pitch back instead, hurtling down, down.
On the floor I weep.
I have a special request, for I am King.
Messages for me you may not bring
inside a plain white envelope! Whatever are you thinking?
Blue, you say. What about blue?
Well, a nice blue regal envelope might do.
I’ll accept blue, but only if it’s touched with violet’s hue.
Yellow or green? Is that what you ask me?
Yellow is for cowardice. Green could show some envy.
I am King; my colors must show splendor and majesty.
I recline in luxury. Grapes from servants I am fed.
Don’t even mention brown or black be used in purple’s stead.
Bring me a GRAY envelope? I’ll say: Off with your head!
.
A violet grape purple envelope. That would make me ecstatic.
You ask where your freedom is? Do I seem as though I'm democratic?
Envelops not colored as requested will be very problematic!
She hadn't received a violet grape purple envelope,
As the invited guests had done. It was more than she could hope.
Each guest had known for ages to expect the guilt edge invitation.
The bedraggled woman knew this wedding was way above her station.
She stood in the foyer of the church, through the window to the aisle.
Her threadbare clothes hung around her form in denial.
She watched him take her arm, as they approached the groom.
A hush was heard as the organ played in the room.
How stunning the bridesmaids, four beautiful girls,
The bride exquisite, her delicate lace gown studded with pearls.
The crowd were obviously all well to do,
Men in Versace suits, women clad in Chanel and Dior too.
She listened as they said their vows and swore to be true.
She smiled as he proclaimed to his bride “I love you”.
Marriage complete, they would all soon walk out to the street.
It was time for the haggard woman to make a hasty retreat.
He glanced at her but didn’t raise an eyebrow.
She would never be recognized the way she looked now.
It was so long since she had cried, she shed just one tear.
Her dear daughter would never know that her mother was here.
Violet grape purple envelope
Beholder of your wildest dreams
Holding all the things you long for
Bursting joyful at the seams
Held in gentle mystic splendour
Locked, entombed, a treasured case
Sacred thoughts possessed so tightly
Coccooned within this hidden place
Wrapped in warming rays of sunlight
Imaginary classic trope
Bestower of the dreams envisaged
Violet grape purple envelope
Time seems to fly by along with the years.
it was only yesterday when I was young.
I enjoyed shopping for pretty writing paper,
sitting in flowered boxes with colorful envelopes.
The box I loved the best,
was the violets covering the box and paper,
with the matching violet grape purple envelopes.
I would spend hours writing my love,
upon these pretty flowery pages,
then seal the violet grape purple envelope.
My red lips would place a love kiss,
to keep the envelope company.
Violet Grape Purple Envelope
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Contest Judged: 10/4/2025 11:20:00 AM
( 7th place )
In the mailbox, it waited,
a violet grape purple envelope…
not the plain white of bills,
not the business-blue of routine,
but a shade rich as twilight grapes
pressed into wine.
The flap held more than paper;
Its pulse echoed the warmth of a waiting hand,
the secret weight of words
never said aloud.
I lifted the seal,
and the room tilted…
like stepping into a midsummer orchard
where each branch hung heavy,
brimming with whispered secrets
of fruit still blushing in the sun.
Inside, no gold, no check,
just a letter, simple and trembling.
Ink curved across the page
like vines climbing a trellis…
every word a fruit,
sweet with risk,
staining me purple.
I held it close,
as though the page exhaled in quiet pulses,
like hidden grapes fermenting
beneath stone and quiet flame…
a slow transformation,
love softening into molten amber.
I can't avert my wistful stare,
from a memento lying there.
Tears fill my eyes, and I cannot see,
my thoughts immersed in reverie.
It was nineteen hundred and sixty eight
when I saw, with her, the Violet Grape.
Psychedelic wonders, and yet,
how could the entire world forget?
Is it only me who still knows
about the band that curled the toes
of me and my angel, the wild rose?
She gave me, enclosed,
tickets for two,
saying one for me, and one for you -
we will ascend to heaven,
on concert day, October eleven.
Reminded by a purple envelope,
of a night and girl who went up in smoke,
as if they never once existed,
a strange thought to be resisted.
I can't avert my wistful stare,
from the envelope, unopened there.
Popsickle, sticky sweet;
Can he taste the cold
Violet grape separating
From the warm wooden stick?
Her penpal wondered
Such things, as he stared
At the popping-eye purple
Envelope, and could almost
Taste his American treat.
The scent and color of
Her tongue, tantalizing;
Was he too young to be
Fantasizing at sixteen.
The violent violet volition
Of his current position;
He licked his lips as he sealed
hers with a mint green peppermint
Envelope and grinned ear to ear.
Perhaps they will meet one day;
Or will she remain a tasty dream?
An envelope appeared through the front door
I felt excited by what my eyes saw
My hands were trembling, but for sure enough
'Twas addressed to me, I felt my young face blush.
As it was my first ever love letter
Nothing at all had felt any better
It had been sealed down with a loving kiss
Such lovely precious memories of bliss.
Violet grape purple, the envelope
A colour I loved, the colour of hope
A hue that still for me shines in the past
Of a love I truly had thought would last.
But for us us someone stood in the way
I had to send my dear sweetheart away
A right no one at all should ever have
To interfere with a romance like that.
It was a love that was never to be
Someone spoiled that hope for him and for me
I still have that colourful envelope
And the sad feelings it does still evoke.
The scent of lavender lingers within a nightly mist,
whilst illumination from a single candle bounces amongst the walls,
playfully dancing within rays of moonlight streaking through glass panes.
A single violet grape envelope rests upon a mahogany table,
delicately unfurled by a silver letter opener,
its contents splayed—
tracing fingertips on raised ink impressions engraved on the ivory paper.
Love seeps from curling words into a floundering bloodstream;
warmth courses through a resuscitated circulatory system.
A heart of stone pumps again, voices silenced in a swirling head.
Seconds tick down unwavering.
Memories once intangible form into realities.
When the sun rises, your kiss will be upon my lips once more,
your silken voice soothing my worries,
as your arms wrap around not just my body, but my soul—
forever entangled as one, forevermore.
Purple envelope
sealed with dried red grape secrets
folded with ferments
hidden like wine in a cask—
waiting to expunge its words
Purple grape-skins torn
the bruises dark, stinking with hate
postponed and withheld—
seething, fermenting inside,
to pop when eyes are uncorked
Fingers hesitate—
lingering on paper's seam
as if it might bleed
mauve ink, staining memories
with bitter taste of tannin
Who dares to open
the violet-purple skins
threaded like tendrils
curled poised to strike the reader—
staining lips and tongues blood-red
The envelope waits
as a bruise waits for pressure—
purple concealing
the truth of what lies within
with promise and a warning
in a cursed invitation.
VIOLET GRAPE PURPLE ENVELOPE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
violet grape-purple envelope
waiting in drawer’s dim hush.
unsent letters breathing deep
holding whispers and promises.
secrets folded sharp as grief,
fermenting like forgotten liqueur.
the scent of longing and fine wine.
Sealed.
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