Those Were The Times (A Song) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Those were the times
And beautiful days
Colorful moment mimes
Their drifting ways
Everything just leaving
Making time for new
In their short briefing
Always coming through

Those were the drifts
Flowing and giving
On to freshly airlifts
Once in times living
When days were all young
Like blossoming garden
In the flowers among
Before cold start harden

Those were the hours
That always made its best
Among deep shade flowers
That later were compressed
In to a dry pale bouquet
Or between two book sheets
And time was its alleyway
in memories and beats