Sonnet 27, Come Come Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Come, come when the pure poems to you call,
Come, come from your dreary and lonely wall;
There are moods, both of the light and the dim,
For each thought, to take a dive in and swim.
Every lip will be kissed with warmth and grace,
That will speak tongues, and all others, - amaze;
And every word that was lost in a shadow,
Will come forwarding again, with more glow.

You need not a touch of a wishing star,
That gives breath of oxygen - into life;
Because, from a heart, your voice is embraced,
And too reach across both deep, and afar.
For he who reaches out and tries to strive,
Will not lead an unworthy life, - or waste.