My mother used to tell me the purple cow poem. Very rarely, she would make purple cows — grape juice with vanilla ice cream. Her daddy used to make them for her. Wow, that was an association I hadn’t made for a while.

I don’t know what made me think to rhyme, but there it was — and there was I revamping and revamping so it (mostly) scanned… and the words matched the tenor of the poem — and they rhymed.

It’s an interesting exercise, now and again. but don’t hold me to it. And there was a bonus extra line in it, because it seemed to require it.

But all of us, whether purple or lavender, should be working for Peace. And we should giggle when and where we can. Keep your eyes open for purple cows.