Treasure Island

Peter S. Quinn


Sonnet of a Dream


The wind whispers from the leaves of the trees
An unknown tune of colors and grass
You’ll hear the footsteps of tomorrow as it comes
From a distance of silences to your ear

In the gleaming of the beginnings of daylight
You have thoughts about a dream you broke away
There is freshness in the light behind the clouds
In you’re mind you thought about the hours ahead

Then when you go to your about in the garden
Visiting roses and lilies that confound your heart
You feel that tomorrow has already arisen

And with him who has your soul and your bearings
You hear the eternal voice of an unknown tune
Be it fate of tomorrow as it again comes

Submitted: Monday, May 28, 2007
Edited: Wednesday, March 02, 2011
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Sonnet of a Dream by Peter S. Quinn )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. No More Hope, Michael McParland
  2. Freedom Fighters, George Egba
  3. A Piece Of The Storm, Mark Strand
  4. So You Say, Mark Strand
  5. The New Poetry Handbook, Mark Strand
  6. SOME WORDS ARE NOT DELICATE, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  7. I Love You Because...!, Asma Riaz Khan
  8. My Struggle, Michael McParland
  9. An Exausted Soul, Michael McParland
  10. Here I Lie; A Grain In My Ignorance., Agboyi Felix

Poem of the Day

poet Helen Hunt Jackson

The month of carnival of all the year,
When Nature lets the wild earth go its way,
And spend whole seasons on a single day.
The spring-time holds her white and purple dear;
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]