Appalachian Blue

Poem By Sandra Fowler

Friend, let us touch each other with warm words.
Deep in the thicket, hear the evening birds
Talk of old sunsets quite content to be,
No more than what the naked eye can see.

I think our letters fight their way through air,
Over patched roofs that seem to gladly bear,
That little light that winter has to give.
However sparingly, the feelings live,

To travel safely through prevailing space,
Making their statement with a kind of grace,
That interlocks the music of landscape,
Within the magic of its own escape.

Comments about Appalachian Blue

Sandra Amazing poetic style here, well done
Sandra Amazing poetic style here, well done
to me you fit in with all those fantastic American female poets, including Emily Dickenson. you are a constant joy and comfort to read. friendly greetings, john
Hi Sandra - another masterpiece. Three quatrain stanzas with perfect iambic paentameter and a consistent a a b b rhyming pattern. There are young poets in PH looking for poems with a classic form - metre - rhyme and that have a beautiful rhythm when recited. I have no hessitation in directing them to SANDRA FOWLER! The subject of the poem WORDS is very apposite for a POET of your calibre because, despite all the constraints of form - metre - rhyme, you come up with perfect word every time. This drives the 'free versers' wild! In verse one you emphasise the importance of 'Warm Words' to cement a friendship. The comparison with 'birdspeak' is elegant. The mention of LETTERS, in stanza two, is nostalgic because in these days of the internet - email - telephone letter writing is a lost art. I just wish still had a copy of every letter I have ever written or recieved. The last verse is masterly it elegantly evokes the beauty of a FREIND LETTER - these are often more emotional than mere LOVE LETTERS. I cannot paraphrase verse three so I'll just quote it - sublime. To travel safely through prevailing space, Mking their statement with a kind of grace, That interlocks the music of the landscape, Within the magic of its own landscape. Thank you for another perfect poem - you are so so lovely. Love in Poetry - JOHN.
Beautifully described. GW62

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Other poems of 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.

(1) Afterthoughts

Words will no longer come from you to me,
Handwritten from a land of minarets.
The imagery still lights my afterthoughts,
I wish you a long sunset, poet friend.

A Smoke Picture

Hands dream to trace the sculptures of old trees
That stand like dark wainscoting to the light.
Thickets of wordless poems capture thoughts,
Paint lowering moods upon gray window glass.

A Scent Of Snow

The moon is lemon light, November cold.
The wind is blowing colors all apart.
Old leaves are writing their last signature
Upon the dimming windows of the world.

(1) A Friendship Bridge

You made me love the teachings of Tagore.
My thoughts were mesmerized by your sitar.
I kept the little flowers from India,
Artfully pressed to span a century.

A Cricket Sang Good Luck

I sat against your knees all night.
I watched the sun rise in your coffee cup.
In all that time you never spoke to me.
I think I must have cried a thousand tears.