An Elusive Thing Poem by Ernestine Northover

We talk of beauty. Such an elusive thing.

How does one define it.

Everything has it, in some degree or other, even you and me,
which makes one reflect.

Is it what is seen or what is felt.
An inner concept,
or something that is only visible on the surface.
Who can tell.

Perhaps there is no answer to what is attractive, or how it attracts us,
As one person glimpses it, another sees nothing.

Maybe a meeting of 'like' spirits, an aura, a certain smile, an action,
an awareness, a perception.
We all see it in different shapes and forms.

I believe that beauty is from the soul, shining through a persons's essence.
An energy both intellectual and emotional, connected to the power of love.