Every Hour Is A Love Song Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Now farewell to the day that's gone
Every hour is a love song
Step by step the time has won
To carry its farewells along
Yesterdays rose from nymphs of marshes
Flowing so easily from deep
Peacefully fields together clashes
Newborn from days to keep

Anything crosses the places between
Coming to be new spring
You have tomorrow to be seen
When they come with greenery to sing
Oh heaven’s pale capital
With earth in its white gray role
Soon there will be your new call
That will cross to the places of ol'

The city is still to become May
With several more months to go
All frost in its deep under clay
Nothing of water to flow
Over the snowdrift hard land
The whiles go free in darkness
And songs of springs to command
It cannot - and less of its cold caress