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Cuba Libre

This Is It

The Inner String

Max on the max

For Another Mean New Sun.

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

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

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Small Sentry

much older now
your whiskers greyed
they told me
how we all get there

my left shoulder aches
in the exact spot
where you once lay in my crooked arm
all night long silent and un-moving

my small sentry
my little bun-warmer

its odd
how it hurts me more
not just when
I  hug myself so tightly
my left shoulder tingles
but in the knowing
it is a lame mimicry
an attempt
to recreate your warmth

legal copyright for this poem/ode
and also for this writer Melissa A. Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site titel
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World
November 2, 2018 11:01pm PST time/date stamped
An homage/ode to Sweet Boy, Tigger Le Pounce. Always and Forever.
re-edited because Tigger deserves the best 11/5/2018 12:09PM PST

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