Dance Of Flowers Poem by Peter S. Quinn

A dance of flowers
Through time of snow
Those wintry hours
In dawn's new glow

Their stepping through
Existence in cold
For epochs renew
That nothing can hold
Flying in the dark
Breezy moment plays
With their playful spark
From the deep sun rays

A dance of new life
To prime coming
Seasons on strife
For blossoming

Nothing can hold
To grow and become
As seedlings unfold
Earth beginnings from
Just as we are
Now in our own dim
Deep down and afar
In bleak Whimsy whim