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Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

(A Prayer of Intercession--Brief Joy)

Upwards Into The Swirling Sea Of White.

Tuesday afternoon in the jewelry box

What If



Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

the slave is freed

So You Do (May 10, 2010 written for June 1987)

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

All Beings Considered

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

Max on the max

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

A Man Called Tsuris

For The Loss Of A Ghost Like You

Love A Cat

Fragile Shell Of Morning

I Long For Stars

I Feel Fine(r)

The Crow Is A Songbird

Sometimes Love Comes With Electricity

And With Words I Let Them Go

When He Returns From The Road

Flashes, Glimpses, Moments, Time

the brand of disappointment

Boy Restored

Please Don't Bring Me Flowers

No Woman's Friend

Ramada

Sometimes I Hear Him

the life and times of Medusa

why not ask the cat?

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The Life of Tigger



I'm hoping she comes home
today, much sooner
than usual.
There seems so little
left here to do

This large apartment
seems more the size
of a closet.
Not big enough for me!

The T.P. has been finely shredded.
I've unmade the bed.
Climbed the curtains twice.
Hidden every stray sock
and dug out each
pair of dirty underwear I could
find in the bin.

I've noticed that outside is much grayer
than usual today.
There are not many sunbeams to lean into.
I've nestled in the newly cleaned laundry
and knocked about the kibble from my bowl.

I've pulled down some of her jewelry
from her chest of drawers and have had
a grand time using her clip-on earring
for an impromptu game of
racquet ball
hmmm...

I'm wondering if she thinks of me
as I am thinking of her?
I wonder if she thinks about Me at all?
Does she know
how very hard it is for me to wait?
I think we need to establish
some kind of schedule.
If I could only tell the time.
I think the time is getting rather late.

And you know,
she also left that noisy thing on
this morning. For some reason, though
from time to time, it catches my eye!
But only when some thing is running
back and forth...like now!

Oh...yes~
I hear what I think could be her
weary tread upon the stairs...
and now the key is a-jingle in the door!

kitty-kitty
Tigger, I'm Home!

Oh,..what a great Hugger she is.
And she scoops me up. I am so happy.
Does she know what a good boy I've been, today?


Copyright August 26 2014 Tuesday
In Memorium of Tigger Le Pounce who lived to
be 19 1/2 years young
All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
All Ideas/Rants/Poetry/Prose are legal Property
of this writer Meloo/Melissa A Howells
site: Tilt-a-World Copyright





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