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Fragile Shell Of Morning

Joy Restored

Love A Cat

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

The Crow Is A Songbird



Upwards Into The Swirling Sea Of White.

July's Message

And With Words I Let Them Go

When He Returns From The Road

Flashes, Glimpses, Moments, Time

the brand of disappointment

Some Will

What If

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

Please Don't Bring Me Flowers

No Woman's Friend

A Man Called Tsuris

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Sometimes I Hear Him

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

Sometimes Love Comes With Electricity

I Long For Stars

Every Time I Listen To the Wind.

Some People

She Is My Friend

Beware The Sign of Sagittarius

Need You (note of encouragement to self)

why not ask the cat?

The Un-Promised Land

I Travel Every Time I Think Of You

Poem Untitled, But, If Not For You

If I Were Your Island....

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Butterfly Girls Like Me Were Meant To Fly


I was born
a child of the sixties
but minus two short years
I could have been a wild wild-child
from the start
a bright wide-eyed hippie girl

but my bad intentions
taught me to listen
and behave
when I should have been
making friend with much better times
and NOT fine manners
only to have become their slave

and when I tried to settle into
that much narrower space
that didn't match
it was to a sin of true
self-omission
to which I had married and attached

in my past
I was too busy denying
my lightest freer self
and eking out a living with those
malingering on the dustier shelves

but now I know
I was meant for better things
like shedding my old skin and
spreading out my newly colored wings

butterfly girls like me
were always
(in all ways)
meant to fly


LEGAL COPYRIGHT DECEMBER 11 2016
8;10 PM PST FOR THIS WORK BY THIS
AUTHOR FOR THIS SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD
MELISSA A HOWELLS/ VINTAGE 1958
GIRL OF DECEMBER

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