the lady with the colourful eyes

she looks at me with daring dark brown eyes,
they're her anger eyes,
she speaks volumes with that stare
behind her expressionless face,
they are plastered with a fierce force,
maternity

they turn a lighter shade of autumn,
when she looks at her first born,
a new born she is,
with the eyes of blue,
she gave her those eyes,
her grandmother had them once too,

her sadness creates an olive brown,
sorrow stricken and hostile,
they're present when she weeps,
and when she doesn't,
they're evident

when they are the colour of autumn leaves,
and the colour clouds her smile,
she's happier than you could ever possibly be,
she's in the presence of her little sunshine,
looking into the eyes of pureness and
secrecy,

the lady with the colourful eyes,
shares her secrets with me,

she's my mother,
and her daughter,
i am she