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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn  8/30/2015 8:56:35 AM
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  Best Poems From
  PETER S. QUINN
 
 
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  4045.     

There's A Way (From,134 Picture Poems)

there's a way
for tomorrow
to come in

circle of lights
picked and reformed
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  4046.     

There's Music In The Air

There's music in the air,
With songs of love so fine;
Singing passions everywhere,
Graces in autumn's shine.

All the moods are trying,
To give the rightful shades;
Fragrance of summer flying,
Naturally in all debates.

Love's giving amours stroke,
Wonderful in its design;
Its color thus autumn woke,
Too complex here to define.

Though summer's parking,
There is plenty of sight;
Blossoms still sparking,
In the twilight's light.

There's music in the air,
From landscapes and stills;
A seasonal turning year,
Longings soon mind fills.
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  4047.     

These Are Days

These are days of going yesterdays
In the hours of captured moments on
With their many promises and pays
Till every dream of theirs is gone

Sunshine moods of coming years afar
Playing through its mirth of all spend
Each captured way of splendid armoire
Until lose ends go again downtrend

Walk away into the going summer
With the windows open for new air
In arrive of ambitious up-and-comer
That is always in circling corners near
Dolls in doll-maker's house are showing
Where every mood each way is going

We may disagree in a reason to fight
Living with motive that’s quick to fall
Trying to bring our own to its light
When there is a time for its given call

Sunshine moods of coming years afar
Playing through its mirth of all spend
Each captured way of splendid armoire
Until lose ends go again downtrend

(from my Album: Something More)
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  4048.     

These Are The Songs That Came From My Head

These are the songs that came from my head,
They came out when I came from bed,
A fairy told me a story or two in my dream,
It had all shorts of scenes but some where rather gleam;
Of mountains and forests and lonesome skies,
Of all shorts of opportunities and failures and tries,
That came as they wend like others go by,
But don't ask any questions, yes don't ask me why.
In the woods of the darkest forest I dwell,
Because a fairy put on me an unknown spell,
And no one can resolve that old some riddle,
Unless he could play the truest of fiddle;
These are the songs that came from my head,
But no one can hear them or where they will led,
Because here I am now wandering just around,
Trying to find a way out but I am all spellbound.
Butterflies and insects of all other shorts,
Are meeting with fairies and judges of higher courts;
They want me to be rescued and see me safely home,
Before night's again here with its supernatural gloam.
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn