Peter S. Quinn Poems

Don't forget your hands or your freedom root
Everything lies tangled in its true ways
The road to the sources of each pursuit
Spectrums and aspect on how it all plays
...

Let me come with you now
To roads each person knows
Our thoughts crossed somehow
Knowing what dries or flows
...

Let me sing about another hour
Where the moon keeps me company
Until dawn will whiten flower
With its plots and time to see
...

With full of emotions
Never the same
I'll wake up erosions
Thunderstorms to tame
...

Bring in the peace
From wandering ways
All here to please
Colored and grays
...

Almost nothing
Close and near
Step by step it'll bring
Futures in very clear
...

Each the color garden summer of bloom
Crossing the way to the serene of blue
Up to the sky and there drifting in new
Cloudlet moments that come airway with room
...

I feel it worth the gold, in what you see,
For believes are all, if eagerly you try;
Truth is made from: to be or not to be,
And with them too, your poetry shall fly.
...

In the after midnight hour
Where changes do occur
Where darkness has its power
Where skins returns to fur
...

Bella Air,
Bella Air,
With your beautiful hair,
Of golden color so fine
...