A Winter Song..

One by one they go
the coming hours,
like a shining winter glow
or bouquet of flowers;
all is here for a time
then remembrance of past,
pleasures in their primes
life to earth dust.

Feeling are the same
days so full of bereave
life of a moment's flame
then hours of its grieve;
Oh darling gone from here
to the fields of lost,
with wintry days everywhere
that remembrance have crossed.

One by one heart beat
slowly from going memory,
futures to other times meet
in their coming destiny;
another day is coming
nothing though the same,
dreams of summer booming
burning colored flame.

by Peter S. Quinn

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