melissaahowells

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Being Ourselves...

Like The Wind In The Middle Of The Night

Uncovered

Unseen, The Lilacs And The Daffodils

The Blue Buffalo



Little Man Orange--My Mister Peanut Butter Trout

Not Someone's Grand Illusion

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall

THE STITCH IN THE TELEPHONE WIRES

Patch-Worked Trilogy

I Turn Forward

The Storm

Prairie Town Progress

Beyond Door Number Three

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

Elise, Elise

A Bird, A Fly, A Cripple (Pity Poem?)

The Make-Up of Molecules

HOW

Haiku's In Triplicate

THERE WILL BE MORE ...

EVENTUALLY...

The Change In The Change(s)

At Night I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

Human History is Pockmarked With Tragedy

EXPECT COMPLICATIONS

A New Clear

What Exactly Comes Next?

morning thoughts (begin again)

Encounter Before Dawn

Somtimes in Surrender

The Cruel In The World (Blue Bag Metaphor)

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My Heart Knows Him Still ( For TLP)


at night his ears would flick
and turn in the direction of my words
he liked it when I whispered my secrets

I liked it when he nestled into my arms
and snored sonorously in contentment
together entangled we slept
his head resting heavily on my chest
my arms encircling his full furry body

I don't recall then
having as many bad dreams
nor waking up in the black hole of anxiety
he was my balm and bliss
his leaning into me
was both a caress and a kiss

nights were sky-full of promise
and sighs
he magnified my heart
to a fiery organ of more than
twice its size

he's been gone so long
but my heart knows him still
 
LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS ODE/POEM
1:58 PM PST JANUARY 10 2020 TIME/DATE STAMPED
AND ALSO FOR THIS POET/WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD





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