‘The Story Of The Purple Petals ‘ By 13 year old Bookosmian from Singapore

The flower flourishes and thrives in vigor. Each year the blossom opens likes a page of a book. A book, not written instead sculpted delicately, the vibrant ink infused into each petal to give them their soft glow. The paper-thin petals bursting open, showing off their natural flair. The months of hard work paying off as the silky petals unfold and seem to our eyes as an outstanding miracle.

The sweet, almost smooth, smell of the flowers cutting through the soft scent of the morning’s dewy grass, and piercing through my nose. The deep blush of purple on the petals, unique and different, creating a magical piece of artwork in the backyard. Suddenly the currents of the wind sway them from left to right, then again, right to left. Being around them while they dance in the soft drifts of the wind, you hear poetry that cannot be spoken in words.

And now along with the wind came pouring down, tiny drops of rain. Each raindrop kissing the petals, comforting memories of love and joy. A while later as the rain slowly faded away, the mist started forming, a soothing blanket that moved as serene water, there came bold purple petals of perfect form.