meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

      Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2020 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   348996 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry

   


Read Poetry
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

More Poetry >>

 
Features

  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook

 
   

It Is In The Rain


Sometimes
the rain doesn't sound
like rain at all.
Sometimes
the rain sounds more like
a waterfall,
and its tears speak
of sorrows
your own voice cannot tell.
And the lark sings a song
your heart knows all too well.
One of pain.
One of longing.
One of being tucked in far away within
yourself.
You have no words for it
but you've found it--
its the sound
of the rain.

(I woke up with these simple words in my head.)

legal copyright for this poem March 20 2019/12:57PM
time/date stamped
and also for this writer/poet/author
Melissa A. Howells and also for this
legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World.






Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem

Comments

 Email Address

 

Vote for this poem