Happy Times.. Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Happy times
come and go,
into their primes
onto their low.
like flowers falling
or the sun setting,
memories calling
some regretting.

But they are still
in bougets gone,
dreams to fill
memories on.
Everything true
into the missing,
a part of you
time is kissing.

All is going
circling around,
sunset glowing
in the past found.
You and I
and our hours,
fall and die
like autumn flowers.

Happy times
where are they,
flowing dark flames
onto the gray.
There once was you
somewhere around,
going life through
and in love found.