Whisper Killed Poem by Sandra Fowler
Whisper Killed
My hand is still in yours. A distant leaf
Lies whisper killed upon the rigid grass.
Frost clinks like ice against the window glass.
When will monotony give us relief?
The blue line of the sill is set in stone.
The artificiality of cold
Rims hills with the precision of its gold.
Touch seems to help the glory hold its own.
The wind is startling to stiff twilight,
The disembodied tree limbs scrape and sigh,
Against a vast infinitude of sky.
Hands tighten on the sheer edge of the night.
Good imagery artfully built around words- rigid…ice…stone...cold…stiff… a whisper that came floating from a distance into vast sky- mind- lies underneath to it –on grass- lifeless…hand in hand tightened though… what feels stiffness? Yes, the vast sky- the mind… The poem ten plus grade...
whisper it to my ears...............your poem...........such a huge fascination...........
The title is so beautiful Sandra, and your poem is like a beautiful painting on canvas, fantastic. Melvina
There are many beautiful lines in this piece but the one that gets me the most is: 'Frost clinks like ice against the window glass.' It lends a delicate musical touch to the poem. Take care... Leonard
Nature has ‘come-alive-live’… Enjoyed to the lees and thanks… Ten+ Ms. Nivedita UK
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful... as stunningly usual.
this got Sandra flower flavor written all over indeed ma'am.. i enjoyed it as always.. just randomly picked this one and read it.. and you know what ma'am.. the title was an intriguing one.. that's why i wanted to read this one! ! ! ! ! ... good thing u changed the title is nt it.. this is nice write.... with lots of love shan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/7/2025 7:38:30 AM # 1.0.0
a very powerful moment, having to say goodbye but not wanting too... i don't think I can bear to watch the ending....