Peter S. Quinn Poems

Flowers shall blossom in summer’s own lawn,
Colours are given variable shades;
That into months ahead decays and fades,
For life has a purpose and death's its pawn.
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Tasting the pleasures
Of the ocean currents,
I find pearls
Black and white,
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Is there a time to know your precious heart?
Before all the tick tacks there goes away?
I will do mine, if you will share your part,
Counting on our honest love, day by day.
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White roses of the night,
Lose not sharpness or bright;
Though dark are day themes,
Of some wishes and dreams.
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Growing clusters full of mood,
Flowing tears they intrude;
Loving ways refined and crude,
Past is always past.
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Surrounded and coming
Phantoms of the future
Weathered eaten pillars
The undulating sutra
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Each onward motion we haven't yet seen
Into directions forever and all in between
Flames of winter blooming of spring
Day that are taken to words that sing
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The music that softly plays in the ear,
Where ocean falls in circles, in a shell:
The songs of the past, the dreams we still hear,
The memories from sea which therein dwell.
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This day is young,
And always sweet and always free.
So much to long,
And find out for you and me;
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Day comes easy
From dark turning
Over into the flesh
Mustering the grass
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