melissaahowells

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I Turn Forward

The Storm

Prairie Town Progress

Beyond Door Number Three

The Make-Up of Molecules



I Will Return

Marinate On This

A Smattering Of Mattering (How Do You Matter)

Threading Myself Through The River Called Night

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

from the tomb of three days sleeping

So You Do (May 10, 2010 written for June 1987)

Lemonade Days and Rhubarb Pies

Life Among Clouds

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

After Wide Sargasso Sea

Unseen, The Lilacs And The Daffodils

A Man Of The Clouds

The Cruel In The World (Blue Bag Metaphor)

Somtimes in Surrender

Encounter Before Dawn

Great Spirit

Shedding Your Skin

Liminality

NEEDING /KNEADING MORE (sometimes)

WHAT WILL YOU THINK GENTLE READER, AFTER YOU'VE FINISHED READING THIS?...We Are All Star Children

Not My Season

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Patch-Worked Trilogy


Our Life Stories Come In Separate Acts
--The First, The Middle And The Last.

Individual Tales, Smaller Pieces To Devise
A Grander Theme--
Joined In A Quilt,
Sewn Together To Fill-In The Seams.

(Ah, Those "Seems."}

A Sum Total. And Nothing's Negated.


legal copyright for this poem/ditty
written 6:51 AM PST June 11th 2020 time/date stamped
and also for this writer Melissa A. Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted AND registered site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-A-World c





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