meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

And Then It Wasn't Hard To Be Eight Years Old

Just Beyond The Door

Great Spirit

Elise, Elise



MOLECULES

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

threading myself through the river of night

After Wide Sargasso Sea

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Dragons

HOW

EVENTUALLY...

THERE WILL BE MORE ...

At Night I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

morning thoughts (begin again)

Human History is Pockmarked With Tragedy

Unseen, The Lilacs And The Daffodils

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

A Man Of The Clouds

The Cruel In The World (Blue Bag Metaphor)

Somtimes in Surrender

Encounter Before Dawn

Shedding Your Skin

Liminality

How Does It, How Do You Matter?

NEEDING /KNEADING MORE (sometimes)

WHAT WILL YOU THINK GENTLE READER, AFTER YOU'VE FINISHED READING THIS?...We Are All Star Children

Not My Season

I WILL RETURN

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If I Could Be The Sky...


if I could be the sky
I'd be wide open
I'd be so large I'd encompass
every horizon

the sun
and the moon
would drop down from the clouds
like golden yolks
rising in a pale pink dawn
or setting into
a deep darkening rouge of silence

an artist might be inspired
to immortalize me
using words and color

children could believe they could fall into
the blue spaces in between their feet
as they lay on the backs
gazing upwards into me

on earth
all creatures would glance heavenward
into my deep purple bowl of stars
and believe in themselves and that
there is a softer gentle side to things
and that
somehow
their lives would be long
and go very far

if I
could be
the sky.


********************************************************************************
legal copyright for original poem/dated 11/28/2018
7:45pm PST time/date stamped and also for this author/poet
Melissa A. Howells and also for this legally copyrighted
site title: Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World

thank you for reading.





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