Time That Comes So Easily (From, Dried Flowers) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Time that comes so easily into life,
With the tongue so bitter but always young;
The wheels of the moments man has to strife,
Amenities of all that's here among.
Kisses of now in sand against stillness,
Deeper and drought with trotting for the years;
Mustering flowers yelping to meet fresh,
Upon going what tomorrow appears.
Surmise of shapes that seldomly will start,
Morning in the meeting entomb of odds;
The hidden nests that bewildered the heart,
Sternly moment blossoms ravished strange gauds.
Waves that don't rest but are moving ahead,
All thoughts confounding in the aforesaid.