Sandra Fowler

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

Sandra Fowler Poems

121. (1) A Friendship Bridge 5/16/2008
122. I Met You In A Poem 3/3/2006
123. A Touch Of Sunset 3/12/2007
124. A Hymn To Frost 9/1/2007
125. The Stanzas Of My Mind 12/11/2005
126. Forever Is Today 3/30/2006
127. Autumn Friends 7/6/2009
128. Appalachian Rain 1/11/2007
129. A Shadow Beautiful 6/13/2007

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.

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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

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.


Read the full of A Shadow Beautiful

You Need Not Know

House corners sing a wind song to the blues.
The air randomly flows with shadow trees.
You come to me across the fading fields.
The passion in your tired face lights the dusk.

I want to tell you, though you bring no flower,
That I have all I wanted from the fall,
But you press your hand hard against my mouth.
The moment is too simple for much speech.

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