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Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

I'm A Slug

Time Does Not Recognize Me

The Knowledge...

Some Women/Some Woman



Laughing Maid

Brilliance

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

I Talk To A Machine In My Darkness

I Long For Stars

And Even Stars Die

I Am Time

Crowded Out

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

All Beings Considered

Storms

what makes a monster (sympathy for the monster)

Max on the max

why We celebrate the losers

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

The Times Have Come Back Of Great Want And Lack, This Is The New Great Depression

The Light Goes On In The Attic (WeAll Have Addictons)

Little Water Bug ( learning the lesson of true pain)

Hope You Enjoyed The Eclipse While It Lasted

Written For My Father Who Isn't Here To Know

I Feel Fine(r)

And With Words I Let Them Go

Used to Think I Could Fix Them.

Sometimes Love Comes With Electricity

Into The Swirling Sea Of White.

Boy Restored

Life's A Candle

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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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