A Morning Song Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Morning threads in clouds
Like fairies golden wings
Above the drifting crowds
Sunshine to them brings
Fragrances in the cold air
Full of colors there too
Love peaceful everywhere
Always up early to renew

Silver strings and sweethearts
Coming there and going
Darling's goodbye departs
Waving and teardrops showing
Feelings inside falling
Outside to the new snow
Longings from the past calling
Like a street wet glow

Morning peaceful bringing
Hours from the lost dark
With few birds singing
In a lonesome winter's park
You and I are walking
To each our waiting job
Sometimes together talking
Sometimes for a probe