Patterns within my kaleidoscope

Golden like a stunning sunset,
As long as a small tree branch
Abstract patterns make it stand out
As slim as a margay poising on a mossy log
Screeches when the sunlight hits its brass body
Bots of pasta is what it would taste like
As smooth as a body of a sharpener
But as rough as a feather from a bird in flight
In possession of a younger member of my family
Shall it stay untouched
Received at birth, as special as can be
This is the object that shall remain for life