Wondrous Fine Or Impure Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Sunset wintry glow
Felling that didn't be
Footsteps you didn't know
Revealed for none to see
All the playful ways
The ennobling optics
Each colors and grays
Of human existence tricks

The disdains of heart
And distinct seeds grown
Each unmeasured counterpart
Flowers there weren't sown
The richness and the poor
Courses that are ahead
One wondrous fine or impure
In every inspired dread

What we haven't guessed is
The courses still to learn
What comes of that and this
Upon every new turn
The particular we all are
For knowing our visage
Lives maneuverable yare
From many cultures assemblage