Aching To The Pleasure - Sonnet Poem by Peter S. Quinn

In my saying there is a playing that goes on
In each reckless and abandoning ways
From the understanding through thin air plays
That to my wonder of cold front is gone
Each dream has a beginning to be done
With those feeling that are clear within you
And come through like a thunder out of the blue
With their falling drum beat constipation

Causing chances that might be now too afar
Gliding through the compass holds of each time
Aching to the pleasure like a falling star
In their twinkling and glow of their shine prime
So much life has taught us in its innocence
Giving way to every steep deviance