Sandra Fowler

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

Sandra Fowler Poems

81. Profoundly Blue 10/14/2007
82. Bittersweet 6/9/2008
83. Charcoal Shadows 6/19/2009
84. A Winter Aeorgramme 12/23/2009
85. A Cosmos Burning Bright 8/31/2006
86. Mellow Light 3/13/2006
87. Appalachian Rain 1/11/2007
88. Whisper Killed 9/17/2006
89. Gray Is Beautiful 6/5/2006
90. Wind Harp 11/23/2009
91. An Elegy In Frost 10/21/2006
92. A Touch Of Gold 12/7/2008
93. Swift Wings 5/27/2009
94. The Old House Rides On Morning 8/23/2009
95. A Fond Farewell 5/24/2007
96. The Joy Of Being 3/1/2008
97. Mortality 6/19/2009
98. A Call For August 7/4/2006
99. A Touch Of White 2/4/2009
100. I Count The Frosts 12/29/2008
101. (1) Blue Windows-For Rajaram Ramachandran 6/29/2008
102. Dawn Light 4/7/2009
103. January Mist 1/5/2008
104. A Keepsake 6/13/2007
105. Birds Of New York' 8/23/2009
106. A Sunset Song 1/30/2007
107. Distance Is Blue 10/2/2008
108. A Touch Of Sunset 3/12/2007
109. A Lowering Day 1/18/2009
110. Do You Remember? 12/7/2005
111. A Touch Of Amber 9/8/2009
112. A Wisp Of Smoke 3/18/2009
113. I Met You In A Poem 3/3/2006
114. Gray Music 4/29/2009
115. A Touch Of Verse 11/23/2007
116. A Smoke Picture 7/28/2009
117. A Shadow Beautiful 6/13/2007
118. A Scent Of Coffee 4/18/2007
119. A Scent Of Snow 11/12/2008
120. (1) Afterthoughts 4/9/2008

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.

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  • 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

(1) Before The Music Ends

Words paint a fragile picture of the dusk.
I think them to a poet far away.
The light shines dim upon my windowpane.
A few tears fall like blue rain in the mind.

Our time has been short listed by sunset,
No matter that the weather has its way,
The stresses live within their measurement,
And distance is a gift we give ourselves.

This moment is designed to be as spare
And elegant as winter's old, gnarled trees.
I trust you to translate my whispers, Friend
And send them back before the music ends.

Read the full of (1) Before The Music Ends

Cloud Moods

Black house roofs are a mirror to the smoke.
The cloud mood makes a backdropp for good-bye.
You lift me parallel to chimney stacks
And make me dizzy with your old world kiss.

The soot is falling like night colored snow
I feel its weight like stove lids on my eyes.
I know I will make poetry again,
But who will chafe my heart when you are gone?

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