Each Time Has Its Good Hours Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Flow flow sweet easy rhyme
To its tomorrow's song
Tide’s up going to its prime
Like sea waves that come along!

Desires bring to its rise
Always from the new to new
Be as pure as bluest skies
For everything that come so true

Give your touches to embrace
Moments pass so fast from here
Every current in its many ways
Let’s keep together in instant share

Each time has its good hours
That discharges along its keeps
Sunshine time and raining showers
Each their distinctiveness reaps

*While listen to a New Year’s Concert of the Wiener Philharmoniker in TV (I’ve done this, each year, all my life; -)