Away To The Dreams Of Morning Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Away to the dreams of morning,
I will sing to you a little song;
For I have thoughts and a yearning,
Which in my heart are strong.

The blooms of summer are falling,
With the rusty colours on;
As autumn is back calling,
Each bouquet that is now done.

All beauty does surrender,
To the withering fall and frost;
And every affection so tender,
Is until next spring gone and lost.

Away to dream that once were,
But still in memories sleep;
For flames are momentarily done here,
Though dew from each dawn still weep.

For life is tender and living,
And passions of strong and week;
Every summer is forward giving,
Assortments each love does seek.