|
|
|
Best Poems From
PETER S. QUINN
|
|
| |
|
|
757.
|
Sonnet, Light of Plummet Days
Light of plummet days is now here going by
Filling hours with slumber brightness on
The fields are luminous with noon sky
Oh heart of songs will be here - until gone
Each new tone still gaily yonder ahead
Filling the weeks with something of its bright
Love is like I know - never gone to dead
For still there is too much of summers light!
Come fill my heart with threads of feelings fine
So I may know how much these views are dear
And every day be worthy of its sunshine
In giving colors that lifes joy could steer
Still music fills the fields in summers shade
Though every tone singings now somber made
Peter S. Quinn
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
758.
|
Sonnet, Love's Clement Moments
Love's clement moments are never the same
They touch with lovely gaze but do not dwell
And burn in their instances turning flame
Each outcome is varied without a foretell
The never resting time back and forth in pace
Whirling and confounding everything on
Bringing lusty leaves to their commonplace
Till each good look in bareness is gone
Their rising seeds of life are distilled around
Giving growth of beauty in the summer field
Pleasures of their growth inside heart is found
Everything of life to the world revealed
In recollections those flowers continue
Coming again from earth in beauties renew
Peter S. Quinn
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
759.
|
Sonnet, Oh Yes It's So True (From, The Lost Sonnets)
Oh yes it's so true - all the world's a wish
That upon a star did shine for a while,
The perfect in ways and truthful in smile
All just some glory and hope for all this;
The jewel in the crown of enchanting bliss
Rightly or wrong where love grows to resile,
Nothing there in the heart to honor defile
Deep as roots that lie hidden in abyss.
Yes morning come to me and give me wings
To pass on to the world where Pegasus flies,
On the horizon of all the unborn dreams;
That from now on and in to future sings
So struggles of our past never abyes,
Where every effort - like a joy only seems.
Peter S. Quinn
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
760.
|
Sonnet, The Bluish Flower (From, The Lost Sonnets)
The bluish flower of the heavens sky
Where raindrops fall from eyelids to the yirth,
And mortal men give to all mortal birth
And each of them will later surly die;
For life is here to grow and then say goodbye
All what is done is like the wind in worth,
It awakes in clouds far from home and mirth
Like stars in night that can not speak but cry.
Why is this so when honey from flowers drips
And gold and diamonds you can surly find,
And be of all your success very proud;
Still there now death you will kiss with you lips
And walk the street of life so very blind,
And shout where you don't need to be aloud.
Peter S. Quinn
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|