It is as if white clouds have come to earth.
The sky is falling. Do you mind, my friend?
Moon sheets echo a shining out of time.
Tree limbs cripple the cadence of snow's song.
Eyes tell me that you pity the cold glass.
You write a letter to me in its frost.
Your words weave me a coat of chimney smoke.
That shadow is the warmth I hold most dear.
Previously published: Voices Israel
If you only knew what poetic coats you words weave, quite warming regardless of falling skies and snows that bewail the loss of its cadence. Love, susie.
Oh Sandra! Your imagination has gone sky high and beyond. The white snow from the sky falls on the ground. The drops of water bubbles on the window panes are like letters written by the snow to the poetess. The smoke from the chimney is jealous of the white color of the snow and tries to blacken it with its dark color. You are almost wedded to the nature in your poetry.
I love the atmosphere you have created here, the richness of your vocabulary warms the cold - every single word has been chosen for the depth of feeling it creates. When I read your poems I just want to absorb them so completely. Thank you for inviting me to read this one! Warmest wishes, Justine
Sandra, This poem seems to fit you like a glove. The language and ideas flow so easily. Say even though it's August could you please pass the hot chocolate? Robert
The sky is falling. Do you mind, my friend? Moon sheets echo a shining out of time. Tree limbs cripple the cadence of snow's song....scintillating expression dear Sandra! It's a fascinating poem.
Thanks for your most recent 'poetic comment'. As regards above poem 'I don't mind at all! ' It is a real positive joy to read and a true work of art.
You’ve brought down sky into the ‘palms of my heart’…and feel…romance and so on endlessly… Great job for me Poet. Ten+ Ms. Nivedita UK
The Sky may be falling but you are soaring Sandra - you weave such beauty and never fail to draw me in to read again and again -
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I kept thinking there were rhymes at the end of these lines - so melodious were the words. I keep scanning it for clues - how did you make me believe that? I'd write you my own message on the pane - of love, of winter, of wisdom it I had it.