green with the envy to know
my Jajja saw colours in the wind
but never knew the colour of snow
She said pain is the colour of earth
a stain only time can remove
Jajja's laughter was a rainbow though
a colour that was made to soothe
She used to call us her little painters
said our colours were yet undefined
Jajja passed on in late December
her colours run through our hearts and mind
She would have liked you, my Jajja
"A Beautiful One," she would have said
"but beauty is the colour of danger!"
and your lips are battleground red...
Thanks for getting me back on here, M.B.
