Peter S. Quinn Poems

The streets are empty for winter is still here,
With the somberness of weeks still to come;
The swift winds of tomorrow with its glum,
May swirl away darkness needing a steer.
...

There are many different occasions
A mood comes in with ever season
Something new in every invasion
Moments you embrace only once
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There is nothing less
That you won't find
In your caress
Its flowers of heart
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Total eclipse,
Of all things that we see;
Breaking our thoughts,
With fire of desire.
...

open surreal dreams
lightly images
gleaning from sleep
...

twisted shadows
climb among
the misshapen rocks
...

surreal shapes
secrets set to be

finger of time
...

The summer comes in with the dearest heat,
And assorted flower bouquets for each vase;
Vivid dresses on the new awakened street,
People walk by with a new look and face.
...

It looks like a beautiful evening,
It looks like a beautiful next day;
I'll becoming tomorrow,
And discuss love if I may.
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Somewhere along the way
There are stones to tumble on
A danger lurks within a day
Before the hours are gone
...