Play My Heart (From, Occasional Songs) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Play my heart,
To fistful of days;
All is counterpart,
To lonesome ways.
Here I go again,
With a shifting touch;
Trying lease in vain,
As it may - inasmuch.

Play my soul,
To beams of past;
Life's a casserole,
Stage and a cast.
Here I go again,
Turning by turning;
Like song's refrain,
In a while churning.

Play my life,
On this time's stage;
Cut like penknife,
Layers of the age;
Here I go again,
In the end of words;
Layed simple - plain,
The years cupboards.