Wednesday, December 7, 2005

Summer With No Words Comments

Rating: 4.8

We should have put you in your hunting coat
Beneath its abstract whorls of pheasant blood.
I think that might have kept you less remote
From cattails and the smell of river mud.
...
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Sandra Fowler
COMMENTS
John Oconnell 16 May 2010

A truly marvellous write with great content. Thanks for sharing. Take care. John

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Yelena M. 05 September 2009

'Your moon-burned body fitted close to me, But grief is not original at all...' Dear Sandra, a perfect flow as always in your poems. A touch of nostalgia, a gentle bit of light and stellar imagery that took me under that slate-gray sky you describe..Thanks for sharing. Always your friend with best wishes. Y.M.

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premji premji 26 May 2009

a journey from sun-hot life to moon-cold death........

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Mamta Agarwal 14 May 2009

but grief is not original at all- Sandra you alone can put in a few words the entire philosophy of great sages of yore. I read and reread, there is a touch of melancholy, brooding over past, nostalgia, letting go- all brought out with stunning imagery. you are so articulate and master of your craft. thanks Warm Regards Mamta

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Alison Cassidy 31 December 2007

The seamless blending of the natural world and a poignantly remembered past makes this poem one to be read more than once. I have to agree with Greg about your use of iambic pentameter, which seems as natural to you as breathing. Beautiful verse. love, Allie xxxx

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Brian Dorn 04 February 2007

Sandra, there is no forgetting your earthly blend of poetry. A truly remarkable piece... stunning by every measure! Also, hope you have a wonderful and happy birthday and wishing you enjoy sixty more! ! Brian :)

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Gregory Gunn 02 October 2006

Perfect iambic pentameter, Sandra. Nary an accented nor unaccented syllable out of place. The double implication of 'Where limbs writhed in a passion of leaf fall' burns with cool fervour. 'Your moon-burned body fitted close to me' is a rather keen bobby dazzler, isn't it? The final quatrain is sensational. Cheers, Greg

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Patrick Ladbrooke 15 August 2006

Picked at random! Superb compulsive flow and detail which gives this a real feeling... Quality again, Patrick

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Ivy Christou 01 May 2006

ok I should stop your poetry for today! this is the first time I read your poems and I'm highly impressed, what a poet! HBH

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Gary Bryson 24 March 2006

Sandra, I read your poems and I think I see something far beyond what is is on the surface. There is a deep reverie in your words that take me, with each reading, into a private world of love and loss. Your poems will survive all of us. I have the greatest admiration for them. Gary

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Marina Gipps 08 March 2006

This excites me: 'Abstract whorls of pheasant blood'....nice lyricism and imagery here in this line. Also: 'Sun unto moon forgetting we were there'...great last line, a fine closure... Again, Sandra, you outdo yourself with great rhyme that is strikingly original and felt...a pleasure to read.

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Nimal Dunuhinga 06 March 2006

Sun & Moon go their own way like' summer with no words' and the road is empty do we gain emptiness? hunter was trapped in the thick jungle of illusion.Very interesting poem Sandra.

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Mary Nagy 07 December 2005

Very earthy poem.......natural. I like that. Sincerely, Mary I'm enjoying your work very much Sandra! Thanks for sharing.

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Louise Mcvicar 07 December 2005

ooh, I like the end bit 'sun unto moon forgetting we were there' - its pretty awesome

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Sandra Fowler

Sandra Fowler

W. Columbia, WV, USA
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