Before We Forget Poem by Peter S. Quinn

I want to show you this
What love is

In days and dreams of night
When love is look to look
Thru windows brightness flight
As evening the hours took
In ash impeccable fire
That carries me to you
When everything is in its desire
Sweet tender while and blue
In everything of aromas
And torches to morning bright
Each hour the look actualizes
Till there is dim twinkling night
In touches of crystal moon
And wings in the morning soon

Well now
There is little by little
And contacts of loving free
Their fragrance is so brittle
And so are the fires to be

That suddenly
Bursts like a sunrise
In promises not-forget-thee

The wind is on window morning
For the day is not yet spring
Each love is a sweetness yearning
As hours to evening sing
And playfully love roots to shore
Where the heart has its play
Bouquets set out for still more
Aroma remember its amour way
Let nothing be in its own still
If the roots are set off like wings
For desiring minutes to fulfill
When love remembers and sings

But
Each day
Is still an hour
Of fulfillment and destiny to feel
The moments of days are a flower
Where nothing of love is real
Each touch extinguested misplaced
In instantaneous implacable peak
And moments to seek backspaced
When heart is with beat so weak
Roots that were set out to live
Now are for modest remembered
For nothing in love they would give
And only for moment adventured