Sing Your Kind Of Love Song Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Sing to the night
For a love song
And let me not hear
You mere talking
Hours are reflecting
To the dark long
While past footsteps
Are away walking

Reasons within
Every minute to go
Spending moments
In singing beats
Time full of coldness
On wintry row
Eve love songs
Each heart now treats

Sing to a day
That’s lonely and still
Fulfill each promise
In dark deep tone
Love is now as easy
As water to spill
For every our moment
Is so much alone

Sing your kind
Of love song
To the dark

(* E. E. Cummings once wrote, “all which isn't singing is mere talking”, - so I thought I would sing…)