Rippled Layers of Agate
I remember in her eyes the color of Christmas day
and the taste of melted butter in the early morning sun
The cadence of her voice the undertone sounds
of her silences, it was long ago
She was a matriarchal mountain of energy back in days
when her hair was red and her cheeks were pummeled pink
Decadent cakes for Christ's birthday, accompanied by her own
we ate cheerfully with eyes aglow
Then in the eve of midnight we unwrapped
secrets of her hand me downs, a knitted family tree
prepping up our dreams we slept without the know
that Christmases of future, would hold no mistletoe
I remember her eyes , two melting Chocolates
and her laughter, rippled layers of agate.
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