My Touch Is Togther Poem by Peter S. Quinn

My touch is together,
as a flower of spring;
it's now or never,
that I will sing...
Oh, winter is coming,
in its darkish mood;
flowers blooming,
then shall elude...

Dreams away, away,
oh remember me;
I'm spring and sunshine day,
a blossom so free!
A bird in its singing,
on a summer day;
forever a tune bringing,
to its melody play...

The earth is a song,
a bouquet of flowers;
a heart that does long,
beauty all hours...
Yesterdays go by,
like dreams in the going;
sun in a summer sky,
that on earth is glowing...