Before The Frost

Frail woodsmoke smells as fragrant as the dusk,
A West Virginia red bird for your thoughts.
Our shadows stretch as far as Salem church,
The place where poetry first came to me.

by Sandra Fowler Click to read full poem

Comments (27)

I will never forget the red cardinals on my windowpane in Morgantown.... Thanks for the poem, Sandra.
Sandra....i'm looking at the scads of comments, all of which very accurately depict this piece as another work of imagical grace...And, so, what more could i say, that had not already been said...Then i read the piece again...and it then struck me...This poem subtlely, yet markingly touches on each and one of all five senses(touch, scent, sight, sound, and taste(you magically create a sense of taste through your vivid detail of scent) ....and of course, there was a sixth sense...that always shines through like a lighthouse beacon...your 6th sense for poetic prowess! Excellent Work, Young Lady! *F*j*R*
This is a beautiful piece. Although the emotion isn't in-your-face, or blatant, the emotive subtext combined with the imagery is wonderful. I particularly liked 'A train whistles its version of the blues'. Beautiful line. This is my first reading of your work but I'm very impressed and shall read on. Well done on a great poem.
A beautiful and sweet poem entwined with nostalgia and sadness. Only you can write such a mild and mellow poem, Sandra. Best Regards.
i am yet to watch frost but i felt is really while reading you...
I smell the frail woodsmoke, as fragrant as the dusk and in my mind a train whistles its version of the blues. The mellow light is only a windowpane away
a nostalgic masterpiece
Poetry is always born In shrines of sadness Like your Salem church And settles lightly On a fragile goldenrod. Uriah Hamilton
A train whistles its version of the blues. ......................................................... Very beautiful poems. And I felt a blues rhythm together with you, as live... 10... Best wishes, Tsira
Your poem is so beautiful. I love the way you make 'sweet sadness' tangible through the train's whistle. Your poem drifts through the mind as beautifully and as naturally as the fragile autumn leaves drift from the trees.
The sights and smells of late autumn pervade this glorious poem with it's unique metaphoric surprises like 'A West Virginia red bird for your thoughts.' Gentle humor, wistfulness and an eye for soft beauty - they're all there in this seasonal masterpiece. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
This is my absolute favourite by you, What Skill and what powerful emotions in this one Thankyou Sandra Love duncan X
Thank you for taking me so vividly to your view. It was beautiful. Bob
dear sandra, beautiful and breathtaking, like the waves that could be hear 500 metres away.
an excellent write indeed.... 'thoughts all remains of time that's gone of sunny days and life that shone' - aijaz the whole poem's very beautiful but i like theses lines most.....10+++ Frost is only a windowpane away. You close my fingers on a sunset leaf.....beautiful very beautiful
'The landscape fades in tune with loneliness. Such sweet sadness is not replacable.' An excellent poem written by a great one. Love with 10.
Oooo, wow! ! ! what a live picturesque poetic painting with nostalgic flash back of the gone by days, a distanced past. Distance creates a magical charm, a halo around it. A classic piece of literature. Sandra, thanks a lot for sharing it.
' Take me home.......country road, to the place, I belonged.......West Virginia, Mountain Mama............Take me home, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , country road.Wow...Sandra dear...yeah before the frost.....those places were wonderful livin places...yeah Salem, Winston.........ah what a nostalgia! ! ! ! ! ! !
'sweet sadness' superb! Ammmmazing imagery has been created in this poem...insightful....10++++
An extraordinary creation by a true poetess/painter and I feel the warmth of nostalgic frost, the red bird and wood smoke describe everything that has written on the window pane forever.