Her aura was usually green
A verdant spring green,
pulsing with life and hope,
standing well clear of her body.
Occasionally scarlet with anger,
her rage at fate repelling boarders,
friend or foe alike.
Sometimes a pale grey
like over-washed denim,
clinging close to her physical body,
echoing a recurring medical condition.
But on a good day,
when she glowed with health,
running my hand along that spectral outline,
well clear of her skin,
We felt the connection,
a silent communion.
It's truly there, rarely seen
and often unspoken,
but absolutely real.
As tangible as flesh and blood,
and if time and distance are no barrier
she'll be smiling unexpectedly,
wondering why she's remembered me.
Gyppo
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He aura was usually green
He aura was usually green
I've been writing ever since I realised I could. Storytelling since I started talking. Poetry however comes and goes
Re: He aura was usually green
spectres and auras and otherworldly normality, very nicely and matter a factly told. Much enjoyed.