Red! Yellow! Taupe! Mocha! And the list goes on and on and on….
New shades are being discovered everyday. Be it a play on light by our eyes or imagination thinking it up. I think colours are beautiful!

Colours tell stories. They share emotions. And they can bring things to life or keep them in secrecy.

Science have proven that bright colours can improve happiness as it releases the hyper hormone aka dopamine.     Let’s wait for the soon to come,  February 14th when the whole street has a bit of red and loooovvvveeee😍😍.

    The usual colours we see around during Christmas – red and green lightings everywhere gets everyone a little excited. Santa’s clothes of white and red also does have a bit of happiness magic…I think.

    Cool colours like blue does have an edge of calmness to it.
    Dear men, I think I’m beginning to understand why you lot fancy blue shirts.(winks)

    Now about dark colours! Lol unless it’s dark chocolate and it’s going to bring me some excitement, most dark colours do incite low levels of emotions.

    Where I come from and most places around the world, when a loved one dies, the clothes and garments worn are usually black. Why? Because it’s a time of sadness and sorrow. A time of loss.

    Some people love to adorn themselves in black attires perhaps to appear with an edge of mystery or simply because they are drawn to the colour black.

    Lol enough of generic colours. How about I tell about the shades that colour my world. The colours of the gems in my Corona.

    Do enjoy the ride!!


    You are the colour of magic. The colour of pain. The colour of that feeling that could get you flying high.
    You, the complicated embodiment of pain and pleasure, the crimson flow that wipes away my darkness and presents me with light.
    That scarlet taint, flowing off a tree, the bleed of the lamb that was slain.
    The colour of everything crushing down and control lost.
    Love’s favourite, danger’s playtool.

    So now, I’m going to step out of you and into something cool.


    I see you when I feel peace. When I’m solemn, I realize how much you feel my memories.
    Then I think about the dudes I hang around, always showing up in the shade of you.
    And I begin to understand, maybe it goes beyond just wearing the colour.
    Maybe it speaks more about their bonding loyalty.
    And the truth is, when I’m sincere with myself, I feel you the more.  Even when I’m resting in the meadows, yellow with growth, coloured by the golden sun.


    I knew from day one; you were my sunshine and my joy. Each time I feel rich with you and when I experience the halos on their heads, I know what they are; angels in disguise.
    But when you are in my head and world too much, I lose my focus and my judgement gets clouded.
    They say, “green is envy” but when I feel jealous, a little bit unstable, I see you too much.
    And maybe what they say is true; “Not all that glitters is golden.”


    When I see you with her, I grow a little green. When I’m surrounded by nature that much, I understand why forest green is one of my favourites.
    You know how green I feel when you take my hand and walk with me across the road in broad daylight.
    I see how I’m learning to take a step at a time.
    I’m growing, I’m glowing.
    My healing elixir at the whisper of ocean blue.


    You know. I know. Either the story is black and white…or not. Pretty much grey lines, sometimes do appear, I guess.
    You are my white canvas, my tabula rasa. My shining light. Sometimes my blank stare.
    You are a representation of purity.
    Sometimes too white for an elephant.
    My glittering stars for my peaceful nights.
    My flag of victory; my surrender.
    In the darkness, my shining astra.
    My yin, only half complete.


    Dear yang, I think you are beautiful. You are a revealer of the other side of truth. The place we sometimes find ourselves when we are broken and lost. Sometimes so much blinding it becomes addictive.  But I think you are not that “bad.”
    Without you, I wouldn’t know good from not- so – good. At least you are more clearer than the grey lines. How well you complement white to create a view so picturesque!
    The moot on the faces of those, vowed to work with coal. Without you inking your way into our lives, I think some things would be but plain.
    For so long, I’ve come to realize that you, my ebony, my coal shaded eclipse, are not the villain.    A victim in the hands of those with thoughts of chaos and destruction. And I’ve come to understand that the story is not always black and white.
    And I will always remember how you are always there before my dawn rising!


    More than a friend, less of a lover. Situationship, it is!  The perfect example of grey lines.
    But honestly, let’s be frank. Aren’t we all usually more grey than black or white. But it’s funny how the universe loves to point out the extremely grey ones. Then the crowd joins in; with the labels and tags.
    How unlikely! Many of us have no skills in fencing but pretty much love to sit on the hedge.  Sometimes our safe haven, when lies blur. Our simple equation when “all things being equal” gets a little complicated and more.
    In the end, our thoughts blurred, our realities skewed.


    I’m going to be a little partial here and do my second favourite.
    Brown skinned, my mocha curls, caramel bulbs. When I breathe in, I smell your breathtaking musk. Sometimes intoxicating.
    And I know I love chocolates for a reason.
    My home. My stability. And that bear-hug of my Teddy with so much warmth and security.
    You may be neutral but you are my natural.
    My winter and my fall.

    Mi Corona – My Crown

    Wow thanks for taking this ride with me 😊☺️!!!

    Let’s hear about your favourite colour (s) and the stories behind it.

    A wonderful week to you all!


    By Abis Psyche

    A young lady with a passion for anything and everything artsy. Painting with words is what I do best. The motive is not to create the perfect picture of emotions, thoughts and feelings. It is to appreciate those imperfect flaws and choices that will always make every story worth telling. My dream is that someday people will learn to tell their stories regardless. Stories heal, and they need to be heard.

    7 replies on “COLOURS OF MI CORONA”

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