The Joy Of Being Poem by Sandra Fowler

Sandra, this is another joy for me to have read this great write of yours. Thanks for the treat. Love you so much, my friend.Take care Love and hugs, Meggie

Indeed Sandra - such infinitesimal beauty closes eyes against all loss, if we but notice the wonders around us - - I love your picture of the homeless leaf against the windowpane...... you and your pen-portraits live wiith the reader and that is in itself the reward to the true poet......... bless you - - hugs to my faraway friend....from Fay.

none can take dip twice in the same river...your poems are also like that... thanks..you have given me two different eyes which can pierce the innerdepths of nature....

Praise for the woodfires that have warmed our past. Red firelight paints the ceiling with itself. The joy of our mere being is alive............ Yes there is joy of being alive and kicking..........But few people feel it......Unless and until you are ready to let yourself flow in a river of time you wont feel it......Your poem describes that joy.....Good Write..10+++

beautiful beyond words my eyes have gone moist in the winter landscape outside your window as the fire burns within with a warmth that can be told.....wonderful just wonderful...thank you for letting me discover your poems....................John.

Time for the robins? If you say so, Friend. Praise for the woodfires that have warmed our past....great expression dear Sandra. A fabulous poem. Top score! !

You render me almost speechless once again, Sandra. I love this heart-warming poem and see myself in front of a log fire into the bargain.

I liked the imagery with this.

Kind eyes affirm that cold cannot come in. Rachel Ann Butler

Wow! ! ! ! This is a-b-s-o-l-u-t-e-l-y gorgeous! ! ! Am bowled over by the imagery, so very pretty Sandra. Thank you for sharing. HG: -) xx