Peter S. Quinn Poems

Butterflies, oh sweet little butterflies,
Soft is you freedom - like the velvet clouds;
Drifting through the air right before my eyes,
And then hiding, where the horizon enshrouds.
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Give me a dirt earth lullaby
Into the morning of feel good
Sunshiny is there going by
I'm with my toes in the mud
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Here I'm lonely inside
Trying to find my way out
As I thru a moment glide
Finding what life's about
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There is time to go and be
In fashionable ways that spark
Every love is not always free
From inside their ways of dark
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Near by the sea I'm now
In ever flowing distant between
Where flowers are scattered in a row
For never again to be here seen
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So much is going lonely
Feelings that never come to be
For me and your thoughts only
Nothing is ever kept on free
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I go my road of fate
Stronghold of my day
Its cry of timeless debate
On to the side way
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Sing me from your heart
Something very close
Fresh like the morning start
Or garden's new found rose
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These footsteps are going
On the falling autumn leaves
Their bleaching on glowing
In the brief moments grieves
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O winter winter white
A song of snowfall free
Now you in coldness abide
In your frosty liberty
...