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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Last Night


last night
in the darkness
the moon spoke
to me
its lantern of light
was rose-golden
creating a halo
which awakened me
and the stars danced more brightly
because
of the hue

below I noticed
two old raccoons
gazing up entranced...
and they were dancing too
muddy paws raised
catching the falling gold coins
gathering in the wet grass

I imagined
them crossing the street
to the Stop N' Go
where they'd buy pastries
hot chocolate
maybe beer
or pretzels

I put on my slippers
right then
grabbed my key
and tip-toed out
to be swallowed into
the envelope of night.


legal copyright for this poem
4pm PST 4/22/2019   Earth Day/
and for this writer Melissa A. Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World






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