Sandra Fowler

Rookie (February,4,1937 / W. Columbia, WV, USA)

Sandra Fowler Poems

81. A Touch Of Verse 11/23/2007
82. January Mist 1/5/2008
83. I Count The Frosts 12/29/2008
84. Wind Harp 11/23/2009
85. A Call For August 7/4/2006
86. Mellow Light 3/13/2006
87. A Scent Of Coffee 4/18/2007
88. A Winter Day 10/21/2006
89. Appalachian Blue 9/17/2006
90. I Look Through Broken Windows 5/20/2006
91. Redemption 12/6/2005
92. Cloud Moods 11/3/2005
93. White Hobby Horses Do You Proud 1/6/2006
94. A Taste Of Going 8/16/2006
95. Profoundly Blue 10/14/2007
96. Perfect Storm 3/20/2008
97. Dream Music 8/5/2008
98. Bittersweet 6/9/2008
99. (1) Blue Windows-For Rajaram Ramachandran 6/29/2008
100. A Touch Of White 2/4/2009
101. A Wisp Of Smoke 3/18/2009
102. A Summer Song 7/2/2007
103. A Single Note 5/27/2009
104. Gray Music 4/29/2009
105. A Scent Of Snow 11/12/2008
106. Forever In The Dusk 6/17/2006
107. Birds Of New York' 8/23/2009
108. The Sky Is Falling 5/9/2006
109. Do You Remember? 12/7/2005
110. An Elegy In Frost 10/21/2006
111. A Cloud Portrait 2/19/2007
112. Almost Home 2/13/2006
113. A Fond Farewell 5/24/2007
114. A Cricket Sang Good Luck 8/3/2006
115. A Touch Of Gold 12/7/2008
116. Beyond The Barrier 12/12/2005
117. A Sunset Song 1/30/2007
118. Paper Birds 9/30/2009
119. A Word And A Flower 11/23/2007
120. (1) Before The Music Ends 7/20/2007

Comments about Sandra Fowler

  • Jolanta Gradowicz (5/11/2006 12:41:00 PM)

    Your poems are wonderful. I love them. You have a great gift for writing poems. Your poems are very inspiring. Besides, I love your rhymes and they way you see the world.

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Nimal Dunuhinga (3/14/2006 7:32:00 PM)

    Nightingale is a nocturnal bird, but Sandra sings all the time with her rich vocabulary in the nature....................her poems like paintings without any brush marks.Instead of the canvas she choose everybody's soul.

  • Jasbir Chatterjee Jasbir Chatterjee (2/17/2006 3:48:00 AM)

    Thanks for sharing this poem. Sometimes even dead, nonliving objects tend to tell us profound truths about life. Last year, when my husband and I stood on one of those beaches in Goa, we spotted a small, rectangular piece of wood that kept battling with the sea waves. The wood kept going back into the sea with the waves, but the waves kept throwing it back on the shore. My husband made a video of this scene and said, 'Look, even the sea cannot keep its hidden secrets for too long.'

  • Mary Nagy (12/3/2005 6:19:00 PM)

    What an immpressive bio. Sandra! I'm enjoying your poems very much! I love the ''natural'' feel to them. Sincerely, Mary

Best Poem of Sandra Fowler

A Shadow Beautiful

How can I write a shadow beautiful?
It is elusive, haunting as old verse.
The wind transcribes the dusk upon pale leaves.
I touch your hand to prove the mood is real.

A cloud or two portends day's epitaph.
Friend, linger takes us where all lyrics go.
The picture is an echo of itself.
No sound is needed to configure song.


(2007)

Read the full of A Shadow Beautiful

Sun's Last Grace

Your hands smell of wood shavings, sun's last grace.
That tawny essence fills all empty space.
I scarcely hear you talk of southbound birds.
Time has gone far beyond the mood of words.

The magic of the moment turns the landscape round.
That carousel defies all music to be found.
Only the wicked shadows carry us away
Into the insignificance of yesterday.

[Report Error]