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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Wake Wake Wake


the sun shone
shining and imposing
I rose
grumbling
whining and proposing
a day in bed
why waste these beams
the energy gleams
and waits outside for me
with arms flung wide
its been winter long
I declared
and I
a seed lie underground
afraid still of the chill
re-awaken then
and be embraced by life
and sun
and light
and all good things which fill
my heart with gladness
remove the blanket from
my heart
resolve to leave
far behind
this winter sadness.


I woke with this in my head this morning.
will go back and embellish and work on it later on.

legal copyright for this poem March 9 2019 7:19am PST time/date stamped
and also for this writer/author/poet Melissa A. Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World





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