The Hour Is Now Summer Time Poem by Peter S. Quinn

The hour is now summer time
And flowing through the lawn
High colors in its prime
Morning sweet coming dawn
Sluggish old dark goes away
Into the very unknown
Only brightness will now play
Inside this little house and town

How sweet everyone enjoys
Morning sun shining shine
No mood or ill temper destroys
The feelings that are doing fine
You have to give and respect
Tastefully morals and take
For dark and night shows reject
When something like this is awake

Play with your fingers let’s fit in
Give every hope its true try
Look how light a heartily win
When you to lows say goodbye
How can you be a squirming worm?
Act ill-tempered and foolishly
Or a twister and a blazing storm
When everybody else is carefree