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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Flashes, Glimpses, Moments, Time


its like the train passing
at night
you hear the echo of its whistle
and know that it has past
but it is gone

its like a shower that falls
in early morning
you see the evidence on the ground
and know that it will evaporate
well before noon

its like eating a piece of shortcake
a sumptuous desert of summer berries
crowned with a billow of sweetened cream
you taste and savor each bite
and you know that this might be
the best you eat
because you picked them
those exact berries will never grow again

it like remembering a night of dancing
and the glimmer of it
a collection of happiness and enjoyment
your feet and heart moving to the music
as if you were gliding across ice
your full skirt billowing out
above your patent red high heels
tap-tap the moments gone
and you're older
your knees sometimes don't hold you
but the memory of flickering lights
and the pulses of music move through you
an electric current of thoughts
and irrational impulses

flashes
glimpses
moments
time

legal copyright for this poem written directly to the page
and also for this writer/author
Melissa A. Howells and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World
June 26. 2017/11:37am PST. Hello/Good-bye World





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