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The Petty Player Who Rarely Sleeps

I'd Like A Taste (The Wolf Said)

The Crow Is A Black Bird

When I Start to Bloom

I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)



All Beings Considered

Words Between Edward And Jane

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

After Wide Sargasso Sea ( For Those of You Readers Who Have Empathy For the First Mrs. Rochester.)

WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

Wild and Unraveling

What Must Be

These Hands Exist July 4 2023 rei-edited 7/12/2023

I Am The Color Of Black

The Tide of Your Lies (2019-2023)

How I Wanted Your Pearls 6/24/2023 WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE

Love Wants What Love Wants re-edited 5/31/023

Winter's Been Too Long.... 4/18/2023 (LONGING)

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat

This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

At Night, As I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

And You Will Be Called Ashes As You Leave ( from a dream)

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

Someone Send Out A Search Party

THE FAN , AT NIGHT, GIVES GOOD ADVICE completely re-edited, an entirely different poem

What Is The Price For Your Touch? re-editied 5/31/2023

Where Is My Bed With The Pleasing Tree -Lined View(NOW REEDITED)

Oh What Fine Physics (Before Me ,Lies) re-edtited @4/17/2023

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

THE COMPANY THAT WE KEEP WITH THE ONE WITHIN

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The Hoping


she sleeps wrapped
silent
as a bouquet of black flowers
editing the pauses between
her thoughts

the fan whispers
a language
all of its own
tremulous
breathless
mimicking the outside
rising whistling wind

a cloud looms and floats
within her mind
the thought of returning home
to a place
she's yet to discover

next to her,
sonorous
and snoring
he is...
tossed on the waves
of his breath-filled sleep
he wrestles with formless phantoms
cunning, they are and
how do they know how
to read his thoughts?

kissing his cheek
murmuring
she half-speaks:

"you're alright sweet pea,
I'm here..."

knowing
they both need their days
in the sun
to evaporate their fear

when I'm on the outside
looking in
I think
where's my path...
where do I fit?

there's gaps in my  breathing
as I lie awake in your bed
small gasps
restlessness
questions
the hoping for better
and mixed in the gratitude
for some days
just how it is

knowing the fine regard
how they share for one other
is the saving glue
the glimmer of light
which turns blackness
into sunrise
and dawning pink-tinged blue.


LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 4;49PM PST TIME/DATE STAMPED
AND ALSO FOR THIS AUTHOR/WRITER/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM  HER TILT-A-WORLD









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