Last Light Poem by Sandra Fowler
Last Light
Blue wind upon a distant windowpane,
I hear you whistle folk songs to the rain
In tune with leaves that have no place to go.
Last light becomes the only home they know.
My friend, I feel your hand upon my skin.
The essence of the mood is paper thin.
Against the awesome turning of the earth,
Warmth has about a cup of coffee's worth.
Previously published, 'Poetry Depth Quarterly'
A Beautiful Warm cup of autumn coffee.....Lovely poem Sandra 10 out of 10 XX nix XX
A beautiful poem Sandra, but for me this line resonates: 'The essence of the mood is paper thin' You capture so much in so few words. A poem to warm the heart. Justine
A calm peaceful time resonates a sense of tranquility. I truly enjoyed the read Sandra, Thankyou.--Melvina--
This poem is a sensual and beautiful remembrance of a night not to be forgotten....wondrous descriptions.....marci. :)
Sandra, this is a brilliant poem. Appreciated. Top score and to my favourite! !
the dying light, the enroaching chill.... love the last line especially....
Unearthly charm in your precious writes gives a feel of worthiness to your excellent quill. God's blessings on you ever. arya.
You are a great metaphyscal poet, can compare with Donne The last and the last and the last lightpost, Still don't know where is the Ghost! Your imagery here is comparable to that of Eliot.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 11:39:26 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Great poem, Sandra. Nothing is to compare to a cup of coffee with a good friend... Good idea for this poem. Warm wishes.