The Day Of Dream Is Going Poem by Peter S. Quinn

The day of dream is going
On to the lonely road
And times of strolling slowing
Within the burdens heavy load

The weak and frail upholding
Within dreams that never came
Fresh ideas now unfolding
In a winter's icily flame

To reach upon its lure
That burn on to its mend
Each hope is forgetting blur
That never was time to blend

Fervor its ardor in mud
To soil it’s gone at last
Its red and darkish blood
Forever its end and past

Now nothing comes like it again
To share its compassion dividends
On to the earth its strain
And with its rust there blends

The wings of quiring song
In mysterious night it hunts
To bring on wishes to long
That was awake in hearts once