Peter S. Quinn Poems

Meeting with My Love,
Yesterdays won't stay;
Feelings, like a dove,
Flying all away.
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Black angels
In time and space,
Black angels
Shall find their ways.
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Like primary colors,
My love towards you;
Never turns or palters,
Everything's quite true.
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There are those words
That poet grow,
We call them poetry;
And if you listen
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Like the rain can fall down from a cloud,
So is all hoping that can't be seen;
Love is whispering not too loud,
As my true love is walking in between.
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Spring is always fresh and free
When it’s in here life to give
Greenery meadows and fields to see
Awaking your heart to live
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Come come morning come
Freshness awaits me then
Tickle each bosom blossom
When they will feel you again
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Somewhere you say
This love of to day
Is all what it means
Of two in betweens
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The wind that blows far and wide
From eternity to receive
Where doubtful shadows hide
To bring us their own relive
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beginning time
things and moment
to share
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