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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn  2/14/2016 2:03:18 AM
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Sonnet 129, Oh Sweetest Rose...

Oh sweetest rose with colours dark and light,
For your pleasure and tender as you are;
It gives you fragrance long into the night,
And is as lovely as the blinking star.
Flower of love a bud of eternal spring,
Gift to your lover from the garden of youth;
To everyone who with feelings can sing,
A sign of the heart, a sign of the truth.
What is lovelier than a bloom like this?
In moments of admiration and touch,
A delicate entrance for the first kiss,
A bouquet that says, I love you so much.
With the roses red, pink, yellow and white,
All coming future must surely be bright.
Peter S. Quinn



Sonnet 131, One Learns...

One learns as long as one can of self give,
Of love and pleasures hidden in the heart;
For all there is it's only worth to live,
When soul and mind are equal in their part.
When it is lost all else is only vain,
It has no freedom in the days to boom;
And all your efforts turn out to be pain,
You are just like the withered summer bloom.
Respect is another pole in true height,
Rejoice of all though it seems little less;
From there then comes another faithful flight,
Of like strength, and likewise is clear progress.
Learning starts from what is hidden along,
And each from there is what is right or wrong.
Peter S. Quinn



Sonnet 132, Perfect Impression

Perfect impression, ah rose fairest of blooms,
Giving colors to the loneliest hearts;
Filling up with fragrance gardens and rooms,
Your treasure truest never here departs.
Imperfect as we are in our dreaming,
At least man's affection, who'll ever know;
Electrified garden summer streaming,
Can you not feel the touching and the glow?
Ah wonderful, sweetest fairy like dream,
Blossom eternal with a simmering glide;
Can I not touch thy shade from coming gleam?
This in my heart of the past never died.
Perfect with petals like velvet and close,
Into summer longings thy flower grows.
Peter S. Quinn



Sonnet 133, Perfect Petal Of A Rose

Is anything in the evening so wonderful?
As quivering leaves, in the fair breeze blow;
Each thoughtless lonely moment is dull,
If it has no passion wings with to go.
My heart is with you always through the night,
Though it may wander, just a little bit;
For some of my thoughts are profound in flight,
Perhaps more than I would care to admit.
But forsake me not for speaking this phrase,
Which flies across sentence, more in believes;
Anything of feeling's quite a sudden blaze,
We to Cupid's heart, just two mortal thieves.
The question then is why love comes so close,
As that of perfect petal of a rose.
Peter S. Quinn
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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn