Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue.
I have been waiting for this post all my life.
They are indeed purple, But one thing you’ve missed: The concept of “purple” Didn’t always exist.
Some cultures lack names For a color, you see. Hence good old Homer And his “wine-dark sea.”
A usage so quaint, A phrasing so old, For verses of romance Is sheer fucking gold.
So roses are red. Violets once were called blue. I’m hugely pedantic But what else is new?
Correcting a pedant Is a very thankless task, Yet I find that I must, Though no one did ask.
That colors have ages Is actually quite right Rose’s red was born first After black and white
So old, in fact, Is the concept of red, Today those with orange hair, Are still called red-heads.
So red is the eldest, Which then is most new? Well the youngest is none other Than our dear friend blue.
Homer’s sea was “wine-dark,” And his sky “bronze,” not blue For Ancient Greek had no concept, No word for that hue.
How then could this confusion Of poetic colors be caused By blue being older When we know purple was?
I think this poem errs For reasons old as time. The word purple, you see, Is much harder to rhyme.
