Dark Mountains Poem by Sandra Fowler

Sandra, visual, spiritual and beautiful. The images in the second stanza spoke such purity: 'Hands clasp to lift a measure of that height. The gesture is as fragile as a kite Against the massive, polarizing night.' I'm adding this to my favourites - definitely one to savour. Warmest wishes, Justine

We are so small against the majesty of nature, but you are right: we belong so long as we love and cherish this gift. In spirit, we are not so small after all.

Selected at random from your collection. what an absolute beauty - really enjoyed the feeling it engenders. Patrick xx

what a write, just beautiful i can picture all of this in my mind, what a sight to see.

Sandra, you capture the awe of your mountains and the wonder of your humanity and hold them together between the width of your hands. I enjoy picking one of your poems at random - almost like a lucky dip - and unwrapping it. I have yet to be disappointed in the prize. Your images stay, like the after taste of good wine. love, Allie xxxx

Sandra, it's a fantastic poem. Your poetry flows like a murmuring river. Top score! !

You have everything in your hands.To hold darkness is can be gratifying.

You can't live in West Virginia and not gravitate towards 'Dark Mountains'

Only in spirit and awe can we face up to greatness and adore.Your poem echo's thoughts I had during climb's when the mind alsoventures into the realm above. Wonderful and spectacular

Sandra, everything I read of yours, seems to strike a longing chord. Dark mountains are but a memory, 'though they will always be the flag of freedom that calls me home. Take care, and stay inspired! :) N