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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn  7/28/2015 5:22:24 AM
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  Best Poems From
  PETER S. QUINN
 
 
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  1265.     

Among The Blossoms (From, Rock Star)

There is this rose,
In a garden beautiful;
And as life goes,
With thorns cruel.

Among the blossoms,
From earth seeds;
As the life possums,
And the roots concedes.

Like dragonflies above the trees,
In knowledge and abilities;
Finding out each contiguities,
In colored ways and poetries.

The blue of world beyond,
When clouds drift away;
Not to this earth bond,
Each night or new day.

With profound sky around,
So deep in its applique;
The horizon line is found,
Inside all this quixote.

Like dragonflies above the trees,
In knowledge and abilities;
Finding out each contiguities,
In colored ways and poetries.

Our world is so beautiful,
Daydreams fading into sun;
Their ways quite ignitible,
To break out of our ration.

Our spirt flies away high,
To get to the gleaming stars;
Let your imaginations try,
Radio waves distance pulsars.

Like dragonflies above the trees,
In knowledge and abilities;
Finding out each contiguities,
In colored ways and poetries.
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  1266.     

An Evening Day

An evening day
in a fading breeze
circling play
to the hours
one by one
in blowing ways

Through meadows dark
and inside mountains
in the mist of haze
the shadows dance
the dark into twilight
one by one
they are softly gone

Oh flower so fine
in earth
and still
in the stillness
of time
going by
one by one
the hours come and go

So much to learn
and dreams to know
before the dark
comes again in
and rises the shadows
to deep blithe
sky of forgotten
day
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  1267.     

Anatomy Of Each Fortune

Give us some young - old,
What it is I don't know;
Reasons bound to unfold,
Inside this and that show.
Rising like a heat wave,
All that is now going on;
Take away and all enslave,
What is differently done.

Anatomy of each fortune,
Is not what you say or do;
It's like more how you turn,
And if it has that patsy pooh.
Sometimes into empty space,
It's going into reviewers fry;
Not too many different ways,
That you can use or try.

Run away or make your day,
It's a strange turning state;
Feel and understand each way,
Styles apart in each debate.
Easy going one way street,
Where will it then all end;
Here's much rubbish indeed,
Nothing durable to comprehend.
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  1268.     

And Colors Hit

We are the ones,
In endless love;
Finding ourselves,
In purest of times.
We are the ones,
Of high and of spirit;
Letting everything go,
And colors hit.

I love you so,
For ever more;
This will just grow,
Of this I'm sure.
We are the ones,
Of youth so sweet,
Let bygones,
Go, an easy street.

Of this I know,
Because of you;
Such fondness glows,
Because it's true.
And if you try,
To break away;
You'll say goodbye,
For just a day.
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn