melissaahowells

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The Petty Player Who Rarely Sleeps

I'd Like A Taste (The Wolf Said)

The Crow Is A Black Bird

When I Start to Bloom

I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)



All Beings Considered

Words Between Edward And Jane

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

After Wide Sargasso Sea ( For Those of You Readers Who Have Empathy For the First Mrs. Rochester.)

WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

Wild and Unraveling

What Must Be

These Hands Exist July 4 2023 rei-edited 7/12/2023

I Am The Color Of Black

The Tide of Your Lies (2019-2023)

How I Wanted Your Pearls 6/24/2023 WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE

Love Wants What Love Wants re-edited 5/31/023

Winter's Been Too Long.... 4/18/2023 (LONGING)

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat

This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

At Night, As I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

And You Will Be Called Ashes As You Leave ( from a dream)

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

Someone Send Out A Search Party

THE FAN , AT NIGHT, GIVES GOOD ADVICE completely re-edited, an entirely different poem

What Is The Price For Your Touch? re-editied 5/31/2023

Where Is My Bed With The Pleasing Tree -Lined View(NOW REEDITED)

Oh What Fine Physics (Before Me ,Lies) re-edtited @4/17/2023

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

THE COMPANY THAT WE KEEP WITH THE ONE WITHIN

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none of our dirty business


in the west the birds were flying
coming home
we watched them winging in
and felt their shadows passing

where do they go for their rest at night
where do they sleep
why is it that they seem so silent
and do birds dream
like you and I dream

westward flying
to their beds
are we westward flying
in our heads
as we nod off

what thoughts go through
their feathered heads
my thoughts go with them
as I wonder
what drives them to safe haven

do the encamp
high in boughs or branches
or low in
hedges and wooded glens
or wedged
into nooks and crannies
in the eaves of houses
and of fast food restaurants
(I have even seen them there)

they take their rest
when and where they will and can
they are not so unlike us
like resourceful women and men
who too have no homes

why then do we admire the bird
but not the homeless ones

creatures both great and small
are sacred in the all-seeing eyes of God
especially when they have nothing

why is it we are so
blind

why is it we are so
unkind

we would feed and house
the wild bird

but leave the homeless man
behind
and call it fate
and none of our dirty business


we are all connected...remember this...practice kindness and acceptance
Copyright June 7 2016 All Rights Reserved By This Author
Meloo/Melissa A Howells
straight from her Tilt-a-World
blues menu

LEGAL COPYRIGHT TO THIS WORK AND THIS SITE TITLE





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