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Peter S. Quinn


In The House of the Abyss


Summer is going with comely branches
Turning back into the dark moments mode
With thoughts of flowers in numbly chances
The slow half light voices of winter's ode
Elements have given sleepiness kiss
Inside silence from the feelings clammy
Passing during the noon's butterflies bliss
With the heavens sunset shadows whammy

Regions of aurora coiled with the deep
Hours of daybreak sleeping in with dim tone
Carrying moonshine of the bluish thimbleful
In the house of the abyss spring will sleep
With the brimming colors and joys alone
And tormenting silence the hours to pull

Submitted: Monday, September 10, 2007
Edited: Wednesday, April 06, 2011
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