Flowers Of The Night Poem by Peter S. Quinn

We are flowers of the night
When hours of darkness comes
And we lose our day's flight
From earth's green field bosoms

Summertime that once was here
In all lives and hour waking
Is now in times of dimly steer
As bitter its dark is aching

The sand of time lies still on
Thru many fields of flowers
With a day that is almost gone
To the winter breaking hours

And as dreams of summer play
In bleaching leaves are falling
Hour of its reality won't stay
For wintertime again is calling

Like a heart that’s never same
Every footstep is always going
In turning ways and burn flame
As the autumn days are glowing

We are flowers of the night
As ground will wither and pale
And everything turns in sight
In longings and lonesome trail