Written September 10, 2026 for Your Personal Poetry Wheel Challenge
Challenge Dates: September 7, 2026 - September 12, 2026.
Verified by HMS.COM / 8 - 8 - 5 - 5 - 8
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Relationships bloom in the hush,
Where solstice stomps its purple flush.
No anger, no storm,
Just calmness in form,
A feather of love in the crush.
And if a thousand miles
separate us,
I am happy,
That we know each other.
Because you're one of those kinds of humans
One can never forget -
because you are something special!!
For Pierre ;)
I loved my make up today
My yellow concealer blended mighty well
At least it didn't turn out gray
Don't forget to draw water from the well
I kissed his fist so hard today
I smiled as I touched my bleeding lip
I admired the color in the mirror
I begged the heavens for this day
His artwork has no error
At least he touched me
ME
I won't forget to draw water from the well
The green and purple looked good today
I'm thinking of having the pattern tatted
Stencil huh
My mother chased me away
I don't think she liked the tattoo idea
As long as I remain the perfect canvas
I will draw water from the well
the moon drifts through the stars,
ropes soft against its glow,
a small basket swaying
over the dark purple mountains~
quiet as a lantern carried by the night.
a faint wind turns the ropes,
slow enough to see the motion,
steady enough to trust.
the basket dips once,
a gentle nod toward the ridgeline,
then rises again
into the cool, bright hush.
the mountains hold their shape,
dark shoulders folded beneath the sky,
watching the moon float past
as though it were a traveler
with no destination
On waters, ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ sunset so purple,
¦¦¦ sings ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ smashed wings' ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ it claims,
¦¦¦ bloody set of ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ flames,
¦¦¦ death ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ with fear, ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ of lovers’,
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ with prophetic truth
¦¦¦ lips that ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ foam covers!...
(Blackout of Gamajun the Prophetic Bird by Aleksandr Blok)
Now all the maps are gone
I am the sailor who sings a new song
I am pulling up the anchor
I am unfurling the sail
I am the only hand on deck
But I know a wind that will prevail
I have a guiding star to navigate
For a horizon through a sound
For here is my destination
That I have already found
High above me, a new heaven
Way down below, a new hell
The crossing of the two is something I dispel
Streaming clouds scatter crystals in the sun
It means little to me that I am not the only one
My determination and resolve is for all to see
To follow in my wake
To liberate and be free
sometimes i sleep so long i forget to eat.
i think it’s supposed to hurt like bruises blooming purple on my skin,
so i press my thumbs against the moons under my eyes like checking fruits for ripeness.
my room has began collecting things:
half-drank glasses of water and trash spilling out the bin.
my teeth fall off every night in my dreams.
june creeps in quietly and it comes in every shade of blue.
i numb myself to avoid every thought but you.
i keep leaving my curtains closed the whole day
yet i ask myself where are the sun rays.
i just keep hoping this will all just fix itself.
while you’re out there living your mornings im drowning in my own dread.
maybe tomorrow it’ll be august instead.
maybe tomorrow the rotten fruit will be dead.
BOIMA.
Pelo e rwalego meloko,
Mogawo wo o sa fetošwego ke nako.
O wa ka mangwele—
fela
wa se khuname!
Botiipane ke matlaka
a go gana go robega phetšong;
Lenganego ke kotse e tiilego ya sebopego,
e sa letlanywego ke tšhošetšo.
Boima bjo—
bo go tlema fase bjalo ka thaba,
gore moya o se ke wa go tšea.
English translate
HEAVINESS.
A heart carrying whole generations,
An unyielding stance against the drift of time.
You fall to your knees—
yet
you do not bow!
Stiffness is the dry stem
that refuses to snap in the gale;
Starch is the crisp, unruffled shield of form,
unwrinkled by the threat of collapse.
This weight—
it anchors you deep like a mountain,
so the wind can never steal your breath.
Each year the earth returns
to its annual remembering~
a vow stitched in root and rain.
I stand along the garden’s edge
holding the morning
like a mirror tilted toward hope.
In its silvered surface,
the world gathers itself~
petal, stem, sky~
a dress rehearsal of becoming.
Purple arrives first,
a subtle rush of color rising
from the cool breath of soil.
It whispers through the lupine,
the verbena,
the small wild blooms
that refuse to be anything
but brave.
Their voices are subtle,
but I lean in~
listening for the way
they say again,
the way they say still,
the way they say yes
to another turning of the year.
And in that whispered violet,
I feel the season
lift its face toward light,
reminding me
that hope is not a shout
but a soft returning~
a color that keeps blooming
even when the mirror of the world
seems dim.
Purple persists.
Nature remembers.
Sautéed psalms of silver strong
Believing in youth as maturity soothes
It is as it should be in my heart
No longer obsessed with less
Teal tears baptize and bless
Lust all that fuss dismissed
Creating a fuchsia foundation
For a clean heart of love so artistic
Kisses create passionate pulsing poetry
Amethyst heart fails to be imperfect
Yet victorious gloriously worth it
All the waiting praying forsaking
Of the wrong one’s led to
Love’s lavender ladder
Where superior intimacy awaits
Baking basking in indigo intimacy
Singing heart hymns
Turquoise touches melting them
From one note into one song
That dotes strokes sings steams
Hotter than July’s jade dreams
Purple passion new yet old fashion
Perfectly imperfect and ravishing
I found an old lantern
behind the door we stopped opening.
Dust covered the purple glass.
I brushed the years from its glass with my sleeve.
and the purple returned.
We used to raise our voices,
afraid silence meant we were losing
each other.
Now we sit quietly,
We had words,
but every word stayed somewhere inside.
The lantern whispered
through the silence between us.
Outside, the festival carried on,
while we stayed inside
beside the lantern between us.
The room felt different than before.
The lantern stayed on the table,
between us,
neither of us moved.
What we hid away
still waits behind doors
we thought were closed.
Those memories are old pages,
left where we last stopped reading.
So I hold it between us,
not because I believe
tomorrow would be any different.
But as proof
even after the hours
when our voices could not reach
across the room,
the dust had gathered,
but the lantern was not dark.
Personal Poetry Wheel Challenge
Challenge Dates: July 13, 2026 - July 19, 2026.
Theme: Relationships
Emotion: Peace
Color: Purple
Season: Festive
Form: Free Verse
Object: Lantern
Verb: Whisper
“A hug from me, now..close your eyes.
Tomorrow is both a gift and a surprise!”
Panagiota Romios
Pangie was a sweet yet spicy soul
Amazing poetess with words of gold
Navy blue tears roll down my face
Angel’s never fear in heaven’s place
God bless you sweet and so kind
Indigo truths written speaking mind
Onyx nights looking up at the sky
Tangerine sun set bequests July
Amazing rainbows as you fly high
Roses are red in remembrance tribute
Olive in the drinks we toast to you
Miss your words and unique attitude
I hope like birds you fly away from blues
Onyx times here despite heaven’s gain
Still missing you is a poetic purple pain
Parts of me are deep as the seas
Black when mad green when envious
Blue when sad and lacking love’s liquor
There was a time when in yellow youth
I sang satin songs with a silver silky voice
How naive I was to believe in denim dreams
Then red heart beat boisterously brown
And you couldn’t tell me music wasn’t it
That I’d not be a star some distant day
Then beautiful life happened and I grew
Desires changed as well as violet virtues
For mahogany motherhood is full of stars
Stars who create church hymns as lullabies
And original purple praise dances at
Babies firsts the first smiles steps words
I learned that only two men would ever
Love
Me
My God and
My
Son who is indeed my sun
The journey of my inner soul has been
Eye opening and full of lessons
Licorice lessons in black love
Lemon lessons in loss
Lavender lessons in peach patience
I no longer grow turquoise taller in height
But in spirit in mind perhaps
A little more wise
The desert that is my love life
Has a beautiful cactus flower
That only God can touch
I am content
gold light hits the grass
long shadows stretch on the lawn~
the day starts to pass
red fire in the clouds
pink petals drift on the wind~
trees are veiled with shrouds
pink turns to purple
stars wait for their turn to shine~
night comes to settle
sun sinks out of sight
quiet fills the empty space~
rest rolls with delight.
soft moon starts to rise
Silver light waltzes on lake
Peace now greets the eyes.
This is amazing
My favorite t.v show here
The color purple
Purple Categories
Definition | What is Purple in Poetry?
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