Peter S. Quinn Poems

Rise to the occasion
Every day is worthy
Be its simple complication
Grass of swaying earthy
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Nothing is standing still
Only the dreams that go
Hours of something will
Depart in its flow
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Blows of bubble sorrows
Into the despair wind
Yesterdays to tomorrows
Surfaces of true chagrined
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Everything so faraway
Nothing seems now close
Evening is coming to the day
Light to the dark it goes
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Day has spoken through the first glow
With summer moods song from birds
Now there's morning for a new day to flow
Leaves with the breeze whispery flirts
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Thorns of hopes through the shattered shadows
When the day to the evening comes
And sleep waves of slumber in thoughts hums
To sea of deep where everything goes
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Songbirds are coming to new summer's day
One by one in their feathering born flight
Through darkness of winter to blossoms height
Oh see how they come and hear how they play
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Midnight winter is now only memories
For the playful footsteps are in coming
Of summer hopes and its gleaning breeze
Around and around each garden strumming
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Toward the moon and the night
The dreams will never come true
Shadows are up in their flight
For days to come and be of new
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