Time Comes Into The Footsteps (From, Dried Flowers) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Time comes into the footsteps of many ways,
Its splendor aloft in all its high out flight;
The sun touches clouds even on gray days,
Like stars are above in the deep and the night.
Nature is of colors and all the growing things,
Steadfast flowing water to the new shores;
Ripen the earth's breast and life again brings,
To changeable forest and all it implores.
Soft fall and feel of the withering leaves,
All is now shortening into dream and dark;
The minutes and hours in sullen interweaves,
Only dawn's sunrise awaking into spark.
Bright times ahead will rise again to birth,
Give us the new seedlings in springtime's worth.