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AUNT NELL’S AURA

There was an aura about Aunt Nell
that made her unforgettable.
Silver hair bunned atop her head,
with wisps framing her face,
each current of air moving them
like strands of spider silk.

Feather-gray eyes laughing
as she told jokes about herself –
Her body rippling as she laughed.
Always with a tiny rivulet
of perspiration glistening
as it settled beside her nostril.

Her long granny-dress tickling
her ankles above plump feet
shod in laceless tennis shoes.
Her ample bosom straining
at the buttons of her bodice.
Gathered gingham apron tied
around her voluminous waist.

Smelling of gingerbread, cinnamon,
and cocoa, as she waddled
about the room.
Smiling and humming as she worked.
So much a part of her kitchen
that you could not think of one
without the other.
Her cooking and baking
permeated the whole house
with mouth watering aromas.

No one ever left her home with an empty
stomach, nor an empty heart,
for she had a way of wrapping everyone
in her abundant love.
When you took leave of her presence,
part of her aura went with you.
As children, we were mesmerized
by the spell she cast.

5/17/96 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

6’th … Arkansas NPD – 2001

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My quest, today

     THIS IS THE PLACE

 

I’m sure in mind this is the place

Behind old curtains made of lace,

Where as a child I used to play.

I wonder if there’s still a trace.

 

I had to make this quest today,

Before they tear all trace away.

The wrecking crew may well be blind

To what this house might have to say.  

               

Perhaps there’s auras left behind.

I fancy them within my mind.

An open door now beckons me —

I enter in; what will I find?

 

The house is bare, with naught to see.

It yawns in all it’s apathy,

And all that’s left is memory.

And all that’s left is memory.

 

 

2/6/00            Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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