"April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory out of desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in a forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers."
--T.S. Eliot
"The Wasteland"
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The Purple Rose
Welcome to The Purple Rose, a web site generated for family, friends and those daring, or bored, enough to stumble across it randomly. Here you can learn more about me, my family, interests, and read some of my work. Enter if you dare.
I chose the name Purple Rose because the flower means many things to me. In our garden we had a rosebush that bloomed larger and larger every year. I don't generally like roses, I think they are commercialized and generic. But the ones we had were special. They were the palest shade of purple, almost white. They had the most amazing perfume I had ever smelled and I cut them every summer when they bloomed to keep in my room to admire. Since then, the purple rose has been my favorite flower. I like it for it's simple elegance and presence in the garden. I like to think I am like it in the sense that I too am a bit different from the norm, a new innovation if you will. The rose is modest and unassuming, yet commands attention. The bud unfolds over time, and blooms into many layers. I guess I see this flower as something mystical, and to be appreciated. I like the fact that when asked, not many respond that their favorite is the purple rose.
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