In Continuing Motions (from, Lullabies)
I've found my heart in the eventide
With dosage of its freshness and quiet stills
Where the airy vapors of drifting glide
Over mountain clippings and nightfall hills
With a morning song to fulfill me dreams
To last of bliss of the evening sky
In the waves with hopes of the beams
Those through the gentleness moments now fly
A morning that comes in songs quite new
Like a lyric filling silence fresh dream
That is born from the futures you walk
Is heard in its virgin to reverie few
In continuing motions and vary stream
That through every transition shall talk
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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From My Room
From my room I hear
The wind blow
Strings from icy harp
Filling the dark
Now outside
The morning comes with night
And leaves with night
My heart is in dark
Like flickering light
Pounding on and on
Through to dreams gone
In the dark clouded sky
With beams of low sun flight
Time slowly passes by
With shadows left to right
From my room I hear
Where I now dwell
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poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Wonderful Bologna
Wonderful Bologna
In your summer wishing
Like bouquets corona
With no color missing
Love songs for flowers
In the breezy wind blow
Your nearness empowers
On city streets glow
All people walking by
In gladness’s mood
Opening up sunshine sky
With their laugh attitude
Softness of shading
Beneath every footstep
All enjoyment abounding
For fresh summer prep
Wonderful spring city
Every aspect there found
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poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Ripple the Waves
A love song from you
Will ripple the waves
Those come forever new
As love that one craves
Each day as it goes
Through times that live
Through foreigner's rows
Where the futures dive
A love song of clouds
In the circling days
Deep whirr of the crowds
In their to and fro ways
Like a song that won't stay
Only be here a while
When the times are gray
And in need of a smile
Feelings that you give
Is a song enough for me
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poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Rippling Mirrors
Rippling mirrors morning
Yellow roads ahead
Winter without warning
Made my roses dead
Now there´s time of evening
Kisses of the cold
Temperaments in a swing
Depth of frost unfold
Grays of shadows close
Murky hours calling
Wintriness morning rose
in window drops falling
Like my love that is lost
On to the past of days
Deep hollow earthly frost
Each its pleasures ways
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poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Nowhere Hours - Sonnet
Nowhere hours are always here some in between
Flowing easy in their going on the day
What remains steadfastly or to be seen
In the dripping thought from each coming play
The eagerness in what you can really do
In taking all together those never match
From the conviction and how it goes through
In its honesty and tenderness touch
Every saying is not always quite true
There is other things fire imagination
With its touching in black and white dots few
Like photographs in their combination
You have everything to bring and doubt
That it is which goes in honesty about
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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What Is the Wind For?
What is the wind for?
If it's not for songs in trees;
What is the wind for?
I feel a song inside of me.
Every day the wind blows,
I think of thoughts from my heart.
Wind melodies come and they go,
Without me knowing where they start.
What is the wind for?
If not for songs like these.
What is the wind for?
If not for songs in trees.
I have been going through life,
Both with comfort and pain.
I have been going through life,
Both with effect and in vain.
But still I hear wind songs,
As they steadily grow;
With melodies chanting,
That no one really knows.
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Clouded Sunshine Colors
Clouded sunshine colors
All their way around
Lost is lost it hollers
To again be found
Beautiful passing’s drifting
On to life ongoing motion
And my sprit uplifting
Like soft embellish potion
Sweetness of its high
Through mornings filling
In twilights goodbye
When the bright is willing
Its onward lightness
As it comes here thru
In the day’s up brightness
For each color true
Bringing on the sunshine
And giving time to see
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poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Silver Frosty Leaves (from Minutes of Falling Days)
Sweet love of dreams and morning's blossoms white
That from twilight comes in to its bloom
With some spear of gleams from bluish starry night
Conquer of the winter in gray and gloom
Life's glimmer and silver frosty leaves
Show their ways when darkness again comes
Each their dream and longings that retrieves
When tone down in palpable deep winter hums
The morning of shadowed silvery moon
Ice on the river in mirroring hold
Yesterday’s retention - in memory
Flowers of winter in their midnight noon
Hallucinations of chill that now fold
Like decorations on every tree
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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A Song for June's Smile
A song for June's smile,
When love is still so young;
Though summer has been awhile,
To become colored and strong.
Each heart is then retrieved,
To tones we imagined away;
When love is back received,
On a beautiful summer day.
A song for each my flame,
Blazing in your sweetness;
Though hearts stay not the same,
They return new and fresh.
All love is between two,
Consonant to win delight;
It is then all up to you,
Whether it burns on bright.
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poem by Peter S. Quinn
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