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The Hoping

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Some Children Have Nightmares (tentative title)

Night Train


wandering the rolling hills ...(written for his model)

All The Changing....


Lonesome Love

two out of three people

A Start Again...(I Green-Dreamed Again Last Night)

The Little Bird Said

cat speech

Funny, Not Funny

All You Have To Do Is Breathe....


A Dog Should Have His Tail...

Enough to Clear The Clouds Away 4/13/2019

Checking Out


Hope Is Sometimes The Best Of All You've Got (definition poem)

Last Night

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Crows...writing exercise in honor of April /National Poetry month


Only The Choice To Be

When People Go

The Day You Left (Words From A Half-Remembered Dream)

Wake Wake Wake

It Is In The Rain

Dream Goblins Of The Night

Wake And Remember

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A Friend By Any Other Name

A state not lightly entered into.
Might as well be considered matrimony.

Gone seem the days of those you can
wholly trust.
Some new friends
exact a price in emails and the book
and think they're just-
ified in their feelings.

Some play, not so nice.
Social media's got real dice
and you take a chance with
the less tightly-wrapped.
Less familiar with manners
than smack.

Cellphones are mere scanners
and instruments of malicious exaggeration
of facts.
Unschooled in kindergarten, friends might be
more up on the slang, the slap
of turn-coats. Possess all the loyalty of
feral Tom cats. Though the manners of a cat
fare far better. Yes.

Sometimes I long for the days
of the letter. Or the land telephone.
Making sure the messages reached homes.
And people were more like people.

Instead of this "I Annonymouse cra*."
Thinking we're clever whenever we
give the coldest shoulder but
the courage to deliver it

Copyright February 13, 2012. All Rights are RESERVED by this Author.
Melissa A Howells Meloo/Tilt-a-World

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