Peter S. Quinn
Coming Around To Nowhere - Poem by Peter S. Quinn
Your heart be throbbing around,
Love songs that never were found;
Goodbye to childish thoughts,
With all those unthinkable knots.
That merry go round from here,
And coming around to nowhere;
Whatever I thought I would say,
In each of my puerile's play.
The stars will shine on tomorrow,
Like snow tops of Kilimanjaro;
Our imagination will never stop,
Though different things it'll swoop.
We will search and find its town,
Let its wall go tumbling down;
The fairytales come still along,
In stories and every new song.
Hope will leave nothing undone,
Endless interpretations in the spun;
We' will mature in years and skills,
But always have our youthful thrills.
If young in our soul we will still be,
And hold to expectations and its glee;
Have the summer in heart and mind,
Never leave the young years behind.
Comments about Coming Around To Nowhere by Peter S. Quinn
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl