Ah, Purple Prose; sensually evocative beyond the requirements of its context. The prominence now days of the teenager writer it would appear, or oft for those that write for them.
Lets face it, we all at one time or another wrote in that manner. A comment made earlier in the day made me think of it again, and to dig out something I started on earlier in the year, which aimed deliberately to be so purple it was mauve. Possibly lavender; Aubergine even.
So here it is, in all its purple glory.
Darkness, that vast and o’erwhelming gloom that did with all oppressive vigour bare down upon the firmament, across whose sable breadth was strewn shimmering, sparkling points of iridescent light, all askew where they fell, as if unto great mounts of diamonds that in the depths were scattered upon which distant radiance was reflected and scattered back in scintillating array; darkness, grim in its majesty, enveloped all in its encompassing grasp.
Yet that which was the tyranny of the shade of night was no so inviolate in its very essence that undaunted challenge could not be raised to o’erthrow it, for such gage had, with audacious fervour, been cast into the very maw of that oppressor, cast unto it by promethean orb that encroached upon its stygian domain, all as yet removed from that who would mark its very approach, though not, as it would seem, unobserved, for across the far-flung horizon of the heavens, where eternal heights did, all encompassing, gash the skies; rough hewn spires and perilous pinnacles draped in the purity of whitest snow, upon whose craggy slopes did sure-footed beats with tenacious resolve stride; across such horizons did spill, like rolling waves before the unseen storm, light of molten bronze to grace the coming day.
Fragile, ephemeral wisps; royal stained, strung out like delicate lace that dances and frays before the flickering zephyr, clung low o’er the eternal peaks; bruised the burgeoning dawn, dark against the light.
Glorious advance, deepening crimson, bronze and vibrant amethyst, driving forth, ever onwards, a multitude of hues akin that assailed that which unto recent history had gloried in its dominance, gloom in full and ignoble retreat.
Needs work obviously, but for just four sentences and 275 words, it does a good purple prose job of describing the sun rising. I may even expand on it at a later date for more Adventures in Purple fun.
TVTropes has a page devoted to Purple Prose; just try not to get too lost in there and remember to come out for food at some stage.
Mist and Shadows 