Sandra Fowler

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

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.

Inside the wall a cricket sang good luck.
The irony of that did not escape you.
For when I tilted up my chin you smiled
To think how once he conned us with that song.

The morning rises white against the pane,
Bland as a sheet of paper without words.
Our eyes communicate it silently,
I think this fog goes on and on, my friend.

I sat against your knees all day.
I watched the sun sink in your coffee cup.
I think we must have cried a thousand tears.
Before the cricket sang us both to sleep.

From my book, 'The Colors Cry In Rain', Apollo Books, USA

Submitted: Thursday, August 03, 2006
Edited: Friday, August 20, 2010

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  • Veteran Poet - 2,997 Points Walterrean Salley (12/26/2009 12:33:00 AM)

    Some moments are speechless. And some are priceless: were nice if the cricket could've work his magic once more. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 0 Points Patrick A. Martin (8/27/2009 1:09:00 AM)

    Oh how many suns I've watched set in coffee cups and how mant tears I've cried into empty teapots. this is such a strong message about not losing something important through lack of communication thank you Sandra may your cricket always sing good luck 10
    Paddy (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 12 Points Fay Slimm (7/5/2009 7:35:00 AM)

    So moving was this cricket's song it brought tears to my eyes - - you have the gift of poetic narrative which reaches the heart of every reader my friend.... this will long stay in my heart, and it goes now to my favourites...... Fay. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Shashendra Amalshan (6/23/2009 5:33:00 AM)

    wow.. John keats said

    'And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
    Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
    The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
    And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. '

    well this one describes the wailing sound of the crickets...

    but your one makes a sweet sound to the ear indeed ma'am, anyway in the modern world we have to sleep under the wailing quires of hedge crickets indeed.....nice 10+++

    with love
    shan (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Mamta Agarwal (3/4/2009 8:34:00 AM)

    how days go by, from dawn to dusk- waiting for a dear one to acknowledge our presence, at times too late. however, a wake up call in some form may make us realise what we have and have not appreciated. beautiful poem, with wonderful images. Sandra you are amazing.

    Warm Wishes
    Mamta (Report) Reply

  • Rookie premji premji (2/3/2009 5:14:00 AM)

    this poem took me away to my childhood........
    crickets, frogs...they made wonderful symphonies...
    but now where did the vanish?
    how can i show a cricket to my little sons...
    they extinct in front of greed of men.........
    this is a requiem to mother earth............ (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 183 Points Palas Kumar Ray (11/22/2008 12:02:00 PM)

    ___________________________________________________________________
    We do very unfortunately fail to communicate our feel to our dear ones who remain so close to our hearts.We fail to cover that very short distance from dusk to dawn and dawn to dask.Only hope, we still wish to sail and cross that distance.
    Good luck always.
    ___________________________________________________________________ (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Bill Thomas (7/19/2008 10:45:00 AM)

    The votes say it all: 19 perfect tens! You have a great lyrical gift, coupled with having something important to say... this one will stay with me for a long time. Thank you. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Lime and Tequila with a Splash of Pineapple (1/27/2008 3:39:00 PM)

    Your words communicate so much in a gentle style that doesn't command your attention, it beckons and we listen. You paint an image almost like a Sumiye painting, the broad strokes are there and our imagination fills in the rest.

    I so enjoyed reading this poem. And just wanted to let you know of my pleasure.

    Peace and harmony,


    L&T (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Tom J. Mariani (11/7/2007 11:51:00 AM)

    I once wrote and thought - -
    'words do not have the strength to carry
    feelings I have that are real'

    Your words have proven me wrong. Your readers can only imagine (and that is what you push they gently to do) the distance between the 'us' in this poem, who were once conned by the cricket's song, and what has brought the 'I' refer to the other as only 'my friend.' (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Jemarie Ragudo (11/3/2007 3:27:00 AM)

    In your pen, words blend like music in the genius of Mozart. If only I can write like you! (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Raveendran . (9/30/2007 8:41:00 AM)

    The morning rises white against the pane,
    Bland as a sheet of paper without words.
    Our eyes communicate it silently,
    I think this fog goes on and on, my friend.

    Vibhava - the setting causing the mood, Anubhava - looks, Vyabhicharibhava- the fleeting mood('our eyes communicate') combine here to create rasa, the aesthetic flavour. (Based on Bharata's (1c BC) rasa sootra. (Report) Reply

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