Nowhere Hours - Sonnet Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Nowhere hours are always here some in between
Flowing easy in their going on the day
What remains steadfastly or to be seen
In the dripping thought from each coming play
The eagerness in what you can really do
In taking all together those never match
From the conviction and how it goes through
In its honesty and tenderness touch

Every saying is not always quite true
There is other things fire imagination
With its touching in black and white dots few
Like photographs in their combination
You have everything to bring and doubt
That it is which goes in honesty about