Edmea

Strong bones,
kind eyes.
Steel bearing hips,
curls alike.

The oracle of transparent lies,
starry skies
and strawberry pies.

She was a queen.

Magical fingers,
brisk at times,
plucking chickens,
solid enterprise.

Watching our backs,
knitting or folding,
her touch, toasty.

We miss her still,
her peaceful faith.

In fate she trusted,
in love she trusts still.

Love never bending,
to the darkness of fear.

Far or near,
doesn’t change a thing.
We love and celebrate her,
awake or asleep.

One of a kind,
a spectacle of alchemies,
folded into a knowing mind,
and dark, watchful eyes.

She knew.
Just one look.
It never ever died.