The Joy Of Being Poem by Sandra Fowler
The Joy Of Being
Beyond the glass snowfall is luminous.
Winter burns like a lamp upon the sill.
The old house creaks in deference to the wind.
Kind eyes affirm that cold cannot come in.
Time for the robins? If you say so, Friend.
Praise for the woodfires that have warmed our past.
Red firelight paints the ceiling with itself.
The joy of our mere being is alive.
We do not yet concede the mood to spring,
The scent of lilacs and the young, green trees.
For us bare branches are articulate,
They tell us all we ever need to know.
Copyright,2008, Sandra Fowler
The joy of being alive...be it any season of life...wonderful theme, Sandra...and wonderfully well you bring out your thoughts there...thanks...10
Beautifully written and straight forward. Brings back many cozy memories. Jim
enjoying being alive, living in the moment, how beautifully you express your emotions through images of nature. Indeed, joy of being Warm Regrds mamta
Time for the robins? If you say so, Friend. Praise for the woodfires that have warmed our past....great expression dear Sandra. A fabulous poem. Top score! !
You render me almost speechless once again, Sandra. I love this heart-warming poem and see myself in front of a log fire into the bargain.
Kind eyes affirm that cold cannot come in. Rachel Ann Butler
Wow! ! ! ! This is a-b-s-o-l-u-t-e-l-y gorgeous! ! ! Am bowled over by the imagery, so very pretty Sandra. Thank you for sharing. HG: -) xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/4/2025 2:09:10 PM # 1.0.0
Nature, the best tool to enhance images in any poem and here you made yours sing like the little Robin in full voice....every season to be enjoyed. Warm read Cindy