Texture

Texture

            When you move, your aura displays

            Like an eyelid soundless blink.

            Breathtaking, into a  deep trance 

            blue autumn, earthen sky.

            A symbol of early childish fairy 

      tales: sliding down rainbows, yellow silk ribbon encircles your waist twirls   

           against the sun-ray’s laughter,

           An epitome of dashing hope clings

           rather projectile, resembling red 

           cannon fireballs: who’s forces safe

           guard gives it the audacity to sing, with

           purpose inscribe on Aladdin's silver 

       magic lamp, a royal purple touch of         

           Network cyber channels four-leaf 

           Green clover all over you; flows none 

           stop, go, to emerge beyond white

           Limelight static silence gift of life: the

           the dream state, where the gray stallion

           gather alone side undress zebra,

           only for a glimpse, and take in 

           your lucidness sends SOS rockets 

           into the silhouette, moment: in

           shades of beauty.