Hope In Dreams Of Rushing Hours Poem by Peter S. Quinn

I love to be alive like a butterfly
In summer among some fragrance flowers
In the waft of the day of beautiful hours
With my wings flying through the open clear sky
To have all the command to see and to try
Carry the beat of its pulsation powers
That comes as hope in dreams of rushing hours
Never to a fluffy thought wander and die

But most of all like the breeze in the leaves
Giving hope with its song and its confide
That goes from the day to evening singing
Every drifting cloud of man's believes
Those through the air of the blue always glide
Each new opportunity they're bringing