Prince and The Revolution Playing Purple Rain

Courtesy Matt Cerms

Remembering Purple Rain

Wiped the frost from the window pane,

saw your blue-eyed blondeness coming,

through the late fall Minnesota rain.

Behind you was a scarlet oak,

its color enhanced by the rain,

I couldn't help thinking of those nights.

We danced till dawn to that refrain.

Uptown we went to that club,

and partied like it was 1999.

Prince and his girls were so good,

erotic city wasn't far behind.

Delirious, we went crazy,

pink cashmere and black sweat.

If I wasn’t your girlfriend by then,

I want to be your lover, yet.

You wore that raspberry beret,

riding down to old man Johnson's farm,

the most beautiful girl in the world,

proudly linked to my arm.

Your daddy gave you,

that little red Corvette.

But he could not tame you,

do I still have you yet?

I could never take that place,

why you want to treat me so bad?

Nothing is worse than when doves cry,

makes me want to be your lover, sad.

Soon will come crystal winter,

but I see you now in my purple pain.

Are you coming to tell me you're leaving,

leaving me out here in the purple rain?

Purple rain, purple rain. Purple rain, purple rain.

Out here crying in the purple rain?

Copyright 2020 © Ronald W. Hull

11/12/20

You can read this poem and print it here at my website.