In Love With My Spanish Breakfast

Rum and Robots

Poem by Joni Caggiano – Photograph by Pexels – 58 seconds reading time

when the sun put on her yellow robe, she was shining
sitting in the humming café in Sevilla which graced her street’s corner like a jewel
while my love was sipping his café solo, the lip of his cup smiles at me
our young waiter cuts slices for my bocadillo con jamón
as he greets me yet again, I notice how beautiful he is with his curly dark hair
feeling guilty as my husband slips his warm hand gently between my legs
suddenly the aching in me is a yearning that physically hurts
biting into my croissant de chocolate, I feel the heat traveling like a stranger
starting where my husband’s hand remains and rising to my cheeks
I hear the voice of my husband, whose every inflection I know intimately
as he touches my fiery face…

View original post 131 more words

Published by Time Traveler of Life

Biography Creating worlds, characters, and wielding power like a madwoman, making my characters happy, sad, angry, and some of them with no redeeming qualities. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I sometimes laugh out loud when I am writing a scene, and I have been known to cry when one of my favorites has to die. I am a left-handed Gemini, what do you expect? Reading bedtime stories to my two children until they fell asleep or until they just told me to go away, was fun. Making up wild stories for my grandchild, and creating Halloween costumes from Cowboys to a Dragon, was another favorite thing to do. I missed that so much when they were grown, that I started writing. My yearly newsletters frequently were drafted third-person by my Love Birds, Miranda our motorhome, and by Sir Fit the White Knight, our faithful Honda. Throughout the years, some of my creative talents centered around writing letters of complaint expressing my displeasure with services or products. One crucial, at least to my Son, was a note to our local school bus driver petitioning her to allow him back on the bus. He was kicked off for making an obscene gesture at his buddy. I reminded her that it was not directed at her, and that “obscenity can be in the eye of the beholder,” kids use that gesture as a greeting. He rode the bus until he graduated. I loved driving my English teacher crazy. Leaving a “continued next week” at the end of my five handwritten pages required each week. He was one of many people that suggested I “do something about my writing.” I graduated from the School of Hard Knocks at the top of my class. After 30 years, in the trenches as a Real Estate Professional, I have found that truth is stranger than fiction. My books are filled with characters I met in that profession. Their names were changed to protect the guilty. Others were from people we met traveling around the country in Miranda, our Motorhome. I am married nearly 60 years to the love of my life, Shirl, and partner-produced two exceptionally talented children, and one grandchild who is our pride and joy.

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