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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn  11/25/2015 9:16:45 PM
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Sonnet 147, Summer Blossoms Wither

Summer blossoms wither, in death they hide,
Light will go into dark and disappear;
Growth fades away with some early premiere,
Of few seeds that with the winter collide.
Dark the world rises for light is denied,
All what in this summer had become so dear;
Into forgotten thoughts now turns unclear,
Only to memory they become close tied.
Like this - our life and everything that gives birth,
Without no rest it comes and grows to run,
And plays in spring and early summer morn.
Gets colored and assorted to the earth,
Like the flowers - fresh that grow in the sun,
Till again it'll be like the seeds - airborne.
Peter S. Quinn



Sonnet 149, The Clouds In The Sky

The clouds in the sky are always changing,
And everything comes, and then it all goes;
We love doing sketches and then rearranging,
From whatever thinking our seed then grows.
Sometimes the blues is all overridden,
With love and our feelings just lying in dust;
We didn't know what in affection was hidden;
And everything there we thought was a must.
We need someone other to tell that's why,
People are always misjudging their heart;
And love and all feelings just wither and die,
Then comes the time we anew again start.
Though clouds are like this - no love need to be,
We just have to listen and know what to see.
Peter S. Quinn



Sonnet 150, The Evening Is Melodious...

The evening is melodious calling,
For all forest songs are so high and near;
The light from the day sky is down falling,
In the eventide I now closely hear:
The nightingales have started their singing,
Memories from the recent glossy sights;
Yearnings, into a heart they are bringing,
Before the day turns off the sunny lights.
Dimmet is more and in silence pulling,
With its hanker tunes sweet and somberly;
And when the birds stop their drowsy lulling,
The nightfall will slumber again on free.
All what is gone therefrom, in dreams can live,
It is for the heart to desire and give.
Peter S. Quinn



Sonnet 151, The Forest Of My Being...

The forest of my being is all within,
Each step I go, I go with darkness still
And never hoping there to gain or win,
For I can't clearly see through dreamy hill.
The water lies in stillness and dark amber,
Nothing under there upon surface goes;
I know just in the house the foremost chamber,
It's the same, as ordinary life knows.
I have wandered, in a swirling like thought
About existence, where it must be going;
Though this in life's not what after is sought,
Each small notion is intensively growing
The darkish sky shall enlighten me soon,
What lies behind the ocean of the cocoon?
Peter S. Quinn
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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn