Peter S. Quinn Poems

These are my frost flowers,
On the cold window;
Morning comes in showers,
Falling rain pearls adagio.
...

the narrow streets
in a little town

with night houses
...

linger on dreams
strength and courage grandeur

impressions
...

hands of life
burning warm desire

holds unexplainably
...

picture in the sky
a night of soul fire

deliciously holds
...

contradict times
fully highlighted in essentials

performance clothes
...

inner interest accounts
together balancing

compounding heights
...

keep nerves
of heaven

in lights
...

creeping rays
over pines

like color turns
...

transparent silent
lines in vast connection

a window of sounds
...