The Days Of Yesterdays Poem by Peter S. Quinn

The days of my days are flowing
On to the voices of silence
Like everything slumbered is going
Though calm delights trance

The lamps are flickering in bright
On to the evening so dark
Here comes the gladness of the night
With many ways of its spark

A day in light forms has departed
And open its door to fall
Now everything seems so dim hearted
On to its outside mood call

Cherished are the days of yesterdays
Where summer was all fun
Beloved by the conduct and their plays
In colors and warm of sun

With longings that gave of pleasure
That almost became the truth
In memories we now shall treasure
Of freshness from their youth

Those deep and tender sweet burrows
That down warded blue skies
Shall be ours always in our tomorrows
When summer to autumn flies