A Call For August Poem by Sandra Fowler

A Call For August

Rating: 3.5

There is a blue fragrance, essence of dusk.
The smoke of last things lingers on old clothes.
Sun has become as rare as goldenrod.
I call for August, but no answer comes.

Autumn awaits across a worn doorsill.
I need you to make sense of falling leaves,
When death paints a rich picture ot itself,
And shadows measure out the long way home.

Yelena M. 14 April 2009

Melancholic, but so sunny melancholic, Sandra! :) As in all your poems, you capture certain moments with the beauty by your soul and express it in unique picturesque lines.Just exceptional(applause! ! ! :) Best wishes and thank you. A.

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Deva De Silva 18 March 2009

Stemming from nature itself… lovely sentiments!

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Andrew Blakemore 15 March 2009

Excellent as always Sandra, you paint such beautiful scenes. Best wishes, Andrew x

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premji premji 25 February 2009

sandraji, you are none but mother nature...... it is very difficult to find out the discription of a tree or flower from the writings of an urban writer............ you are someone livin in tandem with nature...........

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Mamta Agarwal 15 February 2009

we look longingly at what has gone, resist and then accept. your images are surreal and expression so very serenading, it simply enthralls and touches with its depth of meaning lots of love mamta

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John Oconnell 12 August 2010

Scintillating with no word wasted.Thank you for sharing this gem.10 Best regards, John

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Marieta Maglas 23 April 2010

wonderful meditative poem about the nature, lovely to read

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Sally Plumb Plumb 16 October 2009

My golden rod has gone to seed.

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Raj Nandy 01 July 2009

The poetic imagery of the last line, tenderly touches my mind! As lengthening shadows point towards home, an eternal refuge for my chained soul! 10+ -Raj Nandy

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Mamta Agarwal 18 June 2009

I call for August but no answer comes- such an achingly beautiful line. that's life. how through unusual images you convey the impermanence fragility of life. sharing ourselves with someone who understands is deepest human desire. i have read it second time. your poetry grows on me as a reader. thanks Sandra Warm Regards Mamta

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Sandra Fowler

Sandra Fowler

W. Columbia, WV, USA
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