Peter S. Quinn Poems

All love that's wasted when melancholy's here,
The beauties thing that's forever's gone or lost;
When for some absence you'll not hold or bear,
Such legacy that takes its toll and cost.
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I hear sweet melodies,
Drifting through the air;
From angels or wind in the trees,
Tuneful whispers everywhere.
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I listen to your thoughts,
Like the wind in your garden
Roses wild in colors
Taking pigments from the earth;
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Whisperings so softly
And sweetly to my ear
Breeze buzzing free
In the trees and near
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Moments come and go
Onset from dark waft
Therein across deep slow
A grasp of things aloft
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Spring spring here I come
Just like the fluffy air
Bring me a guitar so I may strum
To the singing of singing everywhere!
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Please be in my heart,
While the stars will adjust;
Rise and never depart,
Let no glowing, become rust.
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Night after night there's time going somewhere
With eyes close I see darkness there within
Craving something of its variable own kin
Beautiful sights going sometime to its own sphere
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O silken woods,
Of winds and fire;
With many roots,
Of earth desire.
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There are roads going everywhere,
They are going inside of you,
Roads of the past that are still dare,
And on others, futures are coming through;
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