A New Morning Poem by Peter S. Quinn

A new morning
it's a perfect day,
dreams and its yearning
forward to play;
nothing is changing
it is just like it is,
little bit arranging
hours into bliss.

You have said nothing
just made a trial,
ways of many bluffing
in its time's style;
times go to waste
but life moves along,
many are time's taste
in rights and wrong.

I have tasted earth
brought it into height,
gave my days worth
made a strong flight;
row and row a river
life is what it is,
taker or a giver,
hours into bliss.