Biography of Sandra Feldman
I write because I have to.
I hope that thru my sincere thoughts I
can contribute to the betterment of All.
Pay in a small and humble way my debt to beauty and art.
Peace and Creation.
- Reflection -new-
- Understanding Feeling -new-
- Life-Long Cure -new-
- We Need Someone To Love -new-
- When Poets Dream -new-
- Sweet Good Night -new-
- Love In Life -new-
- An Extraterrestrial Experience -new-
- Today Remebering Yesterday -new-
- Lone Voyager -new-
- On Father's Day -new-
- Therapy That Works -new-
- Definition Of A Pessimist -new-
- Serpent's Plot -new-
Sandra Feldman Poems
The Moon will shine, Without your smile, But no longer shall it be, A Moon that shines for me,
A Different Love
There was very little physical about their love, It went well beyond all that, Like two Swans whose necks intertwine, Creating an everlasting bond,
What is Love? Emotion, devotion, And oh, so much more, The thrill of a Lifetime,
We speak to Robots on the phone, And our Computers are our home, We really think we're not alone, But all of this lacks Human tone,
Good friends are rare, Especially those, That really care, Who keep you,
A Look Of Love
A look of Love, How many words, Silently heard, Without a sound?
I am, what I am, what I am, But I can be better, Learn new and wonderful things, Everyday!
The Right To Be Free Inspired By This ...
The freedom to love, The freedom to chose, The freedom to Be, To win or to lose,
Nuit D'Amour (Love's Night)
In the secret, silent night, When all stars have taken flight, And the cares that plague the moon, Drown in Lover's deep Lagoon,
I know how you feel, After all, I am you, Maybe together, we'll get thru, This Solitude, an open wound,
Poets are such children, They still can dream out loud,
You have to love language, As much as poets do, It's kind of an obsession, Bigger than you,
Some live, In inexplicable fear, That, of never finding love, Or having it near.
The Loving Rose
Nothing like a Rose, To show us how love grows, Flower that inspires, Beauty Queen, desire,
Miami has a pickle smell,
A smell that tells you all is well,
You enter in a restaurant,
And eat and eat all that you want.
And there is herring too, you know,
So white that it resembles snow,
'Light Bagels' with some cream and lox,
That even would please Mr. Fox.