My new home

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Today I am alone,

but not in a bad way…

no one is home,

husband is at his new job,

daughter is at hers.

My company…

is my music.

Breakfast is done,

dishes are clean,

counter-top is clean,

did I mention that I LOVE my counter-top?

it is made of quartz,

the color is perfect.

Did I mention that I LOVE my new home?

When we walked into the house

on that open house day,

I immediately felt an affinity for it.

There was nothing I did not like about this house.

This house was made for me…

it’s not perfect, but it’s perfect for me.

It has character.

It’s classic.

All our old stuff found a place in our new home.

Nothing seemed out of place,

everything fit perfectly somewhere,

and slowly but surely

we are doing the little things, or big

that is making this house better

and more of our own.

We will take care of this home,

as we are only the stewards.

Some day in the future,

this home will make another family

as happy as we are,

until that day,

I will care for my home,

love it and cherish it.

 

Loly Mireles

July 14, 2016

 

How do you feel about your home?  Do you love it?  Is it HOME?

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The Watering Can

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As I fill the container with water once more,

I see the black smudge on the watering spout.

A reminder of last night’s fire

at the neighbor’s house.

What little water was left

in the watering can and pitcher,

was enough to douse the growing flames

on the bicycle and porch.

I watered fire, but it did not grow…

It wilted as all bad fires should.

 

Loly Mireles

6/27/14

Motherhood…Our Common Bond

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moms

Motherhood is the one common bond we women have. Whether you gave birth to a child or raised one, we know what it means to hold that precious baby in our arms. Our bodies stand testament to all we do for our children.

For some our bellies grew and stretched as our babies grew inside.

Our ears hear their laughter, their cries or complaints; they hear them peacefully breathe.

Our eyes see everything they do; they are witness to their growth.

Our lips shower them with kisses, and through them words of encouragement or admonishment pass.

Our chest provides comfort and solace as we hold them in our arms. It swells with pride when they are witness to their accomplishments.

Our arms hold and hug our children lovingly when they are sleeping, crying or they just need to be held.

Our fingers braid or comb their hair, remove smudges from their faces; tickle and caress their sweet little bodies.

And our legs support us through all the things we do for our children. Whether it’s walking alongside them or it’s chasing them, our legs are there providing the foundation for all the other integral parts of our body.

Indeed our entire body is a witness to our children’s lives. As mothers we all share the same feelings and emotions that come with raising children. We know the joys, and the heartaches; the contentment and disappointments; the pride and humility. Motherhood is our common bond, regardless of our place in the world, or the color of our skin.

So on this special day, I say to all of you wonderful women who are mothers….HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!

Loly Mireles

May 10, 2015

Sexual Ride

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Ahhh how delicious it is when you fall in love.


I love being in your arms
tracing my fingers
up and down them
kissing you
slowly
like molasses
being dripped
over your lips
savoring
the sweetness
drop by drop
kiss by kiss
the languorous
delicious feeling
that envelops me
as you hold me
in your arms
accented by the mental
verbal foreplay
followed by
the urgent kissing
biting of lips and neck
the revealing of
two eager participants
crying out for attention
only too willing
to comply
to the soft
warm
suckling kisses
that send notice
to another part
of my body…awakening her
the last
but oh so necessary participant
in this joyous sexual ride.
 

Loly Mireles
August 17, 2010

Living on the outside of life

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I have a son.  He’s homeless.  He has a mental disorder, but one that could be managed.  He’s chosen a life that I cannot fathom.  As a mother, I feed him when he shows up on my doorstep.  On frigidly cold days I wonder where he is.


It’s cold,
it’s freezing,
he’s homeless.
Where is he?
I wonder
where people go
when there is no place
to call home.
Is the street,
under stairs,
inside a building…
home?
His mind
chooses
to not see
not care.
There’s nothing
I can do,
not even
when
that person
is my son,
living
on the outside
of life,
walking,
panhandling,
not caring.
He’s free
to do
as he wants.
But still I think,
it’s cold,
it’s freezing,
he’s homeless…
where is he?
Under stairs,
in buildings?
Does it matter?
When your son
chooses
to not seek help
What can you do?
Except think…
it’s cold
it’s freezing
I hope
you find shelter.

 

Loly M.

January 2, 2015