Pure Flight Poem by Sandra Fowler

There is something sacramental in the quiet graceful flight of a hawk. You have captured it with elegance and grace. Robert

Your poem flows like those out-stretched wings veering majectically.

Sandra's eyes are like a camera that catches vivid picture of what she observes from the sky or on the earth. Another flash back of a single hawk and its background in the form of word-picture-poem to Sandra's credit.

Captures well the urgency and beauty of the hawk hunting, against the more abstract passing of time beneath it. Patrick

Only this morning, walking my dog, I watched as a lone bird swooped and soared, shadow below and blue sky above. This poem is a wonderful piece of observation, a moment captured in time's passing light. Justine

sandraji, that hawk is nothing but your soul... and the flight, i love to call it: poetry..........

a visual treat to the mind...trying to recreate the scenery through your fine poem...a treat

Your words pure magic as they capture the lone flight of the hawk and drops a poem into your hands..thank you Sandra - the hawk, my favourite

You capture the solitary nature of your hawk with skill and grace in this majestic poem about the passing of time and the beauty of the seasons. I also pick up an emotional sub plot of regret and sweet sadness. Masterful poetry. love, Allie xxxx

Many moods and images are captured here - so many poets have praised this work, I merely wish to echo their thoughts. 'Warm bones against the frost' is what the spirit requires, always - the sun always westers, forever. - Will