Peter S. Quinn Poems

The days of spring are near
With the flowing water around
In every heart of youth to steer
That still with the winter's bound
...

We shall remember each day of their past
In fragrance of passions of faraway dreams
Those wearing old minutes of days now lost
But still lie inside like a ray of gleams
...

O delight delight those days
When the sky stars are singing to me
With their colors of bluish grays
To make me become again free
...

The blue of the evening is showing
From inside the tinctured perforated glow
Where the moon from the cloudlets is now going
As the shadows to night must further grow
...

Hoping against hope
Are my wings to fly
And hold on to that robe
That pulls me to the sky
...

I'm not living very well
Though I'm living here
Every day might be as hell
In its time of everywhere
...

A night was born for its dream
A day to carry the coming light
Everything in between times gleam
Is either of dim or sparking bright
...

The imbibed cold forms of the outside spears
With the silvery glow threads of the sky
Moon on the edge of the cloudy flowing tears
Yesterday's morning in their dimming high
...

I'll remember you
In imagine times goodbye
Where skies were always blue
In every low and high
...

Between the footsteps
Is easy going about
And everything that keeps
In between doubt
...