Ode to the Laundrywoman (for Iya Feliza and Nitz)

She takes my basket of dirty clothes -
An Offering,

a bouquet of hibiscus or

like sins forgiven.

anticipation to wear again
that pretty little white dress -

baring my biceps,

jasmine of cotton around my neck.
they come home to me

hand-washed,

rinsed from their inequities
and sad memories.

now sun-kissed,
wind-blown and

cotton fibers pressed -
side-to-side top-to-bottom folded.
Her smile demure and warm as the daffodil sun

Her delicate hands I hold in mine,  A Pray'r -

gratitude overflowing
notwithstanding next load coming.

undone

some bridges are better left uncrossed

some doors are best left closed

some poems are best left unwritten

some words are better off unspoken

a  kiss left unkissed

is a promise not made

and thus cannot be broken

as only hearts can be

there's a reason certain paths are not taken

a reason some falling stars are not wished upon

for when it comes to what matters

done can leave one in tatters

When Clean is Mean

     Yesterday I cleaned out the boys' room while they were in school. Picked up every single Lego piece on the floor. One or two may not have escaped the vacuum cleaner's wrath. Everynight I wade through hundreds of them just to make it to their bed to kiss them goodnight. We talk about safety and all but still thousands lay there like carpeting. I may not have plantar fasciitis after all. I just need to pull out these multi-colored plastics out of my heels and then I can walk straight again.

     We come home from school and I show them their immaculate room. And God help me - Jared threw a fit and Kyle of course took his cue from his older brother. We're talking throes of crying and weeping, feet-stomping and fists beating on the pillows because things were not left as they were and what a mean Mom I was for cleaning up the room!  It was ridiculously comical! I didn't break anything they had created, mind you. Just put all the loose pieces in one (or more) buckets.

   Yet honestly? The room didn't look right spotless and Lego-free. I may just do penance by sorting Lego pieces by color. Besides, I have a few hours to myself when they play with them blasted pieces. Down the road, I may actually need therapy when  their room is clutter-free from toys.

(pic art by ZenSue)

Oh'ed by Teachers

Tonight I've tucked my boys to sleep
Tomorrow their minds the teachers keep
May angels watch over them and pray
Students and teachers to have a great first-day!
 
For how do they keep 24 minds in order
When all the children wish is for recess not to be over
To see their friends everyday
And not have any homework they say
 

School supplies, rules apply

Detention gets their attention

Read so you can lead

Add and mom won't be mad

When all is said and done

Teachers are angels bar none
Molding minds, touching hearts
As we parents also do our parts