My Song
My song is a wonderful sightInto the darkness I know
Turning on flowers so bright
With every wing of its go
I was a daydream of yesterdays
Filling the woes so endlessly
Surrounded by winter fall's gray
Being just me there and quite free
Love is a hurt and my mistress
Introduced to that I thought right
Swing in its moods and caress
Showing me darkness and light
Roses of fallen heart-shape
Burning to sleep in my breast
Either sweet blossoms or grape
Evening of thoughts to adjust
Daydreams so much for autumn
Everything turning in shade
Bleak flickers of tincturing strum
With every old redden made
Turning gardens to love cries
Making my heart become alone
Saying its summer goodbyes
With ashen in its wintery tone
Poetry by Peter S. Quinn
Read 1169 times
Written on 2009-10-13 at 07:07
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