<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546</id><updated>2011-12-14T18:47:58.417-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poems of Papa Due</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110857039171517249</id><published>2005-02-16T08:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T08:13:11.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poems From The North</title><content type='html'>Poems from the north,&lt;br /&gt;Are frozen on the ground;&lt;br /&gt;Winter's songs going forth,&lt;br /&gt;Like wild wolves hound.&lt;br /&gt;Dewdrops grain of light,&lt;br /&gt;Instant moments blackbird;&lt;br /&gt;Ravens on their flight,&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts in snow anchored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poems of my deep heart,&lt;br /&gt;Flying in a winter's frost;&lt;br /&gt;Blooming roses impart,&lt;br /&gt;Some are now there lost.&lt;br /&gt;Murmurs of the wild sky,&lt;br /&gt;Dreams I had for a winking;&lt;br /&gt;And the words will calcify,&lt;br /&gt;If some will there bethinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poems unraveled rivers,&lt;br /&gt;Falling the enormous neem;&lt;br /&gt;Songs that with cold shivers,&lt;br /&gt;A frost roses night dream.&lt;br /&gt;All is within me there alive,&lt;br /&gt;And giving the wind a gust;&lt;br /&gt;Longings into my archive,&lt;br /&gt;All what I need and trust.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110857039171517249?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110857039171517249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110857039171517249' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110857039171517249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110857039171517249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/poems-from-north.html' title='Poems From The North'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110856996061609469</id><published>2005-02-16T08:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T08:06:00.616-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Into The Splitting Open</title><content type='html'>Into the splitting open,&lt;br /&gt;All the light goes;&lt;br /&gt;Clouds of dust and space,&lt;br /&gt;From the inside grows.&lt;br /&gt;Quicksilver lizards walking,&lt;br /&gt;In epiphanies of wind;&lt;br /&gt;Reflecting what is void,&lt;br /&gt;In the earth's chagrined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Into the days ahead,&lt;br /&gt;Inventions of the old;&lt;br /&gt;On the planes dances,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing can it hold.&lt;br /&gt;Ruins of restless song,&lt;br /&gt;Through the pines and walls;&lt;br /&gt;Fiery rites in the light,&lt;br /&gt;On open routes and halls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Constructions are restless,&lt;br /&gt;Closing hand and jewels;&lt;br /&gt;Sky is pink and reddish,&lt;br /&gt;Blue in the azure fuels.&lt;br /&gt;Twittering of green games,&lt;br /&gt;Garden of strange reverence;&lt;br /&gt;All is but in a moment,&lt;br /&gt;Into each given chance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110856996061609469?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110856996061609469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110856996061609469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110856996061609469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110856996061609469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/into-splitting-open.html' title='Into The Splitting Open'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110856978049550502</id><published>2005-02-16T08:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T08:03:00.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Times Are a Changing</title><content type='html'>Times are a changing,&lt;br /&gt;Spring of night goes;&lt;br /&gt;Seeds are rearranging,&lt;br /&gt;Where the wind blows.&lt;br /&gt;Through the moves forward,&lt;br /&gt;The forest in the sun;&lt;br /&gt;Life is long and hard,&lt;br /&gt;Joyless or some fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crows and wild dogs,&lt;br /&gt;Each with day or two;&lt;br /&gt;Onward further logs,&lt;br /&gt;Sideways for the new.&lt;br /&gt;Garbage and the picnic,&lt;br /&gt;Reborn hundred times;&lt;br /&gt;Within a mouse click-click,&lt;br /&gt;Rearrange this rime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Times are of the ages,&lt;br /&gt;Name by name and game;&lt;br /&gt;Fountain river images,&lt;br /&gt;Never flowing the same.&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping land and sea,&lt;br /&gt;Beneath the beating waves;&lt;br /&gt;Roots from a living tree,&lt;br /&gt;Barefoot and sleeping paws.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110856978049550502?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110856978049550502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110856978049550502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110856978049550502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110856978049550502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/times-are-changing.html' title='Times Are a Changing'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110856943097578699</id><published>2005-02-16T07:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T07:57:10.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>There is Sunshine</title><content type='html'>There is sunshine in the daylight,&lt;br /&gt;Full of spiral blue and space;&lt;br /&gt;Showing high tension wire flight,&lt;br /&gt;In the yellow white blazing rays.&lt;br /&gt;Through pictures and color acts,&lt;br /&gt;Every time when the sun will shine;&lt;br /&gt;Metaphors in the magnetic tracts,&lt;br /&gt;Collapse and burst the horizon line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daylight we can not be without,&lt;br /&gt;Every morning is full of surprise;&lt;br /&gt;Though in darkness we walk about,&lt;br /&gt;As passion in time divides and dies.&lt;br /&gt;Can we darkness defeat that's born,&lt;br /&gt;From a day that is falling in bright;&lt;br /&gt;Where colors are dim and out worn,&lt;br /&gt;From shifting of shadows and night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come without knowing and realize,&lt;br /&gt;How apart all the sky-rise really is;&lt;br /&gt;Some daydreams are nothing but lies,&lt;br /&gt;For sleep paints on canvas of a wish.&lt;br /&gt;There are thoughts the eye can't see,&lt;br /&gt;Full of perplexities of black to yellow;&lt;br /&gt;There's space of a passion that's free,&lt;br /&gt;Something in the hearts that's mellow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110856943097578699?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110856943097578699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110856943097578699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110856943097578699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110856943097578699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/there-is-sunshine.html' title='There is Sunshine'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110856881392652283</id><published>2005-02-16T07:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T07:46:53.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Dream is For You</title><content type='html'>This dream is for you,&lt;br /&gt;So hold it close today;&lt;br /&gt;Let some of it come true,&lt;br /&gt;Before it will go away.&lt;br /&gt;All or nothing there,&lt;br /&gt;Everything you can find;&lt;br /&gt;Lets this dream share,&lt;br /&gt;For hope is very blind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This dream can not foretell,&lt;br /&gt;All is growing inside;&lt;br /&gt;Just an ordinary spell,&lt;br /&gt;That from sight could hide.&lt;br /&gt;What is right or wrong,&lt;br /&gt;And why do we drift apart;&lt;br /&gt;Can we not get along,&lt;br /&gt;Choosing each other's heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This dream is closer now,&lt;br /&gt;With yesterdays gone;&lt;br /&gt;We'll manage somehow,&lt;br /&gt;Through this inter freon.&lt;br /&gt;Light up my inside desire,&lt;br /&gt;Waves to an open shore;&lt;br /&gt;Reach out and drift higher,&lt;br /&gt;Know what a heart is for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110856881392652283?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110856881392652283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110856881392652283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110856881392652283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110856881392652283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/this-dream-is-for-you.html' title='This Dream is For You'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110856851937835508</id><published>2005-02-16T07:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T07:41:59.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>Today I will reach to,&lt;br /&gt;Whatever is out there;&lt;br /&gt;Bring in the very new,&lt;br /&gt;Give a thought to share.&lt;br /&gt;All is for a longing new,&lt;br /&gt;Down from a distant road;&lt;br /&gt;Love must be seen true,&lt;br /&gt;If on the water to load.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll reach a heart's destiny,&lt;br /&gt;If I'm not out of luck;&lt;br /&gt;Set all the fires there free,&lt;br /&gt;That for a moment got stuck.&lt;br /&gt;Where have you been,&lt;br /&gt;You are the one to trust;&lt;br /&gt;I have the out side and inn,&lt;br /&gt;Wandered and crossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is going on strong,&lt;br /&gt;With feelings that were lost;&lt;br /&gt;With sincerity dingdong,&lt;br /&gt;The dice have been tossed.&lt;br /&gt;All is for you now to see,&lt;br /&gt;If you've felt this way too;&lt;br /&gt;For two and two in unity,&lt;br /&gt;Is not an empty ballyhoo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110856851937835508?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110856851937835508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110856851937835508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110856851937835508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110856851937835508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110856778060978730</id><published>2005-02-16T07:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T07:29:40.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolving a Question</title><content type='html'>Resolving a question,&lt;br /&gt;That never was or is;&lt;br /&gt;The number is not known,&lt;br /&gt;Only the wish.&lt;br /&gt;Try to be you,&lt;br /&gt;And nobody else;&lt;br /&gt;Bring out all the new,&lt;br /&gt;From perfectly within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clouds are today,&lt;br /&gt;And gone tomorrow;&lt;br /&gt;What we can give, &lt;br /&gt;Is only what we know.&lt;br /&gt;Songs that are gone,&lt;br /&gt;Flying yet again;&lt;br /&gt;For nothing is normal,&lt;br /&gt;With inside our brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Born every minute,&lt;br /&gt;Something to reach for;&lt;br /&gt;Ladder to climb,&lt;br /&gt;Or bring through ashore.&lt;br /&gt;What you are asking,&lt;br /&gt;Is something to hover;&lt;br /&gt;Or there to wish for,&lt;br /&gt;And then rediscover.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110856778060978730?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110856778060978730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110856778060978730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110856778060978730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110856778060978730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/resolving-question.html' title='Resolving a Question'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110850325345603473</id><published>2005-02-15T13:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T13:34:13.456-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Misunderstood</title><content type='html'>Misunderstood,&lt;br /&gt;Through everything here;&lt;br /&gt;Like in the black wood,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to spare.&lt;br /&gt;Love is away there,&lt;br /&gt;To whom do I reach;&lt;br /&gt;By walking this year,&lt;br /&gt;And what will it teach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misunderstood,&lt;br /&gt;No one to blame;&lt;br /&gt;All is in a bear's hood,&lt;br /&gt;With an adhering flame.&lt;br /&gt;Reach out to no body,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to give;&lt;br /&gt;Inside feelings free,&lt;br /&gt;If they then live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misunderstood,&lt;br /&gt;And tearing me down;&lt;br /&gt;What comes of good,&lt;br /&gt;In a ghost town.&lt;br /&gt;Bring back my wishes,&lt;br /&gt;I'll need them all;&lt;br /&gt;When people me dishes,&lt;br /&gt;And each of my call.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110850325345603473?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110850325345603473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110850325345603473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110850325345603473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110850325345603473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/misunderstood.html' title='Misunderstood'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110850290074956766</id><published>2005-02-15T13:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T13:28:20.750-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Believe In You</title><content type='html'>I believe in you,&lt;br /&gt;And the way things are;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's out of the blue,&lt;br /&gt;On any a given star.&lt;br /&gt;Make all thing come true,&lt;br /&gt;That has drifted afar;&lt;br /&gt;Get your things through,&lt;br /&gt;From bar to next bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe in all,&lt;br /&gt;After those yesterdays;&lt;br /&gt;Destiny may call,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing forever stays.&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling good and bad,&lt;br /&gt;Without any reason;&lt;br /&gt;Once we before had,&lt;br /&gt;Autumn's rustic season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe in thought,&lt;br /&gt;That may come or go;&lt;br /&gt;Everything be brought,&lt;br /&gt;And from it there grow.&lt;br /&gt;Just like life here is,&lt;br /&gt;Rain comes after sunshine;&lt;br /&gt;What you may not wish,&lt;br /&gt;Maybe just as fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110850290074956766?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110850290074956766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110850290074956766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110850290074956766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110850290074956766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/i-believe-in-you.html' title='I Believe In You'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110850256319981072</id><published>2005-02-15T13:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T13:22:43.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vertigo</title><content type='html'>There is no more this,&lt;br /&gt;Anything comes down;&lt;br /&gt;Merely as a wish, &lt;br /&gt;In a dark town.&lt;br /&gt;I may thing for two,&lt;br /&gt;Reasons going round;&lt;br /&gt;It's up to me and you,&lt;br /&gt;What will there be found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave me now alone, &lt;br /&gt;Stone for stone for stone; &lt;br /&gt;I am inside the Vertigo,&lt;br /&gt;Diffusions wherever I go,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is further down the row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A day with sunshine in,&lt;br /&gt;Playful clouds in sky;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is in a spin,&lt;br /&gt;Going down or high.&lt;br /&gt;Call the girls to play and dance,&lt;br /&gt;Raining through a destiny;&lt;br /&gt;In our life it's all a change,&lt;br /&gt;What you can not now see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel the closeness of a twin,&lt;br /&gt;Reaching for another try;&lt;br /&gt;You will either lose or win,&lt;br /&gt;Anything needs to detoxify.&lt;br /&gt;Call the colors to a blanch,&lt;br /&gt;The contrast moods abhorrently;&lt;br /&gt;Straight ways to disarrange,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is forever to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave me now alone, &lt;br /&gt;Stone for stone for stone; &lt;br /&gt;I am inside the Vertigo,&lt;br /&gt;Diffusions wherever I go,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is further down the row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This and more is to the wheels,&lt;br /&gt;Turing round or going strait;&lt;br /&gt;Anything on to its heels,&lt;br /&gt;Time will for no one wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave me now alone, &lt;br /&gt;Stone for stone for stone; &lt;br /&gt;I am inside the Vertigo,&lt;br /&gt;Diffusions wherever I go,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is further down the row.&lt;br /&gt;Stone for stone for stone,&lt;br /&gt;All the feelings inside drifting atone;&lt;br /&gt;We are almost though,&lt;br /&gt;In whatever we got to do,&lt;br /&gt;Stone for stone for stone.&lt;br /&gt;Vertigo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110850256319981072?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110850256319981072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110850256319981072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110850256319981072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110850256319981072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/vertigo.html' title='Vertigo'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110849797204635255</id><published>2005-02-15T12:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T12:06:12.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gravity</title><content type='html'>Going up in air,&lt;br /&gt;Taking out gravity;&lt;br /&gt;Floating fluffy there,&lt;br /&gt;To and fro free.&lt;br /&gt;Going there and here,&lt;br /&gt;All is easy see;&lt;br /&gt;So much lightly wear,&lt;br /&gt;Where I want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going places found;&lt;br /&gt;Without any gravity,&lt;br /&gt;Circling round and round,&lt;br /&gt;In this concavity.&lt;br /&gt;Yet I'm still earthbound,&lt;br /&gt;On my spinning journey;&lt;br /&gt;Going around and around,&lt;br /&gt;In its true propriety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going up in air,&lt;br /&gt;Taking out gravity;&lt;br /&gt;Everything to share,&lt;br /&gt;In each its peculiarity.&lt;br /&gt;We have dreams to know,&lt;br /&gt;when we reach the way;&lt;br /&gt;Distances may grow,&lt;br /&gt;For a new coming day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110849797204635255?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110849797204635255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110849797204635255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110849797204635255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110849797204635255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/gravity.html' title='Gravity'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110849753748381693</id><published>2005-02-15T11:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T11:58:57.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Una Mattina - One Morning</title><content type='html'>Una Mattina,&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it means;&lt;br /&gt;Yes Una Mattina,&lt;br /&gt;And everything in-betweens.&lt;br /&gt;Hope is in the hope,&lt;br /&gt;We got to feel it through;&lt;br /&gt;Future has its scope,&lt;br /&gt;Same in what we do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una Mattina,&lt;br /&gt;Life is in every reach;&lt;br /&gt;Yes Una Mattina,&lt;br /&gt;Each step you make to teach.&lt;br /&gt;Hold on to the robe,&lt;br /&gt;Reaches in your way;&lt;br /&gt;There may be claustrophobe,&lt;br /&gt;Night before the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una Mattina,&lt;br /&gt;I'm counting on you;&lt;br /&gt;Yes Una Mattina,&lt;br /&gt;In for the old and new.&lt;br /&gt;Lives are like the lobe,&lt;br /&gt;Giving and then taking; &lt;br /&gt;Their illumination strobe,&lt;br /&gt;Illusions have been making.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- One Morning!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110849753748381693?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110849753748381693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110849753748381693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110849753748381693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110849753748381693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/una-mattina-one-morning.html' title='Una Mattina - One Morning'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110849696773369087</id><published>2005-02-15T11:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T11:49:27.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Way It Is</title><content type='html'>The way it is,&lt;br /&gt;For all things passing;&lt;br /&gt;Our time is a bliss,&lt;br /&gt;With each luck classing.&lt;br /&gt;Truth is in the treads,&lt;br /&gt;That spins around to find;&lt;br /&gt;Colors blue and reds,&lt;br /&gt;And everything combined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running to their places,&lt;br /&gt;All the making force;&lt;br /&gt;To the open spaces,&lt;br /&gt;What our fate there stores.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's why,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing reaches for sure;&lt;br /&gt;Its given to an open sky,&lt;br /&gt;What each road is for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way it goes,&lt;br /&gt;Someday turns again;&lt;br /&gt;Like the wind blows, &lt;br /&gt;Building on each den.&lt;br /&gt;What we take or loose,&lt;br /&gt;Twists or winds in hand;&lt;br /&gt;Life is but a bruise,&lt;br /&gt;Come to understan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110849696773369087?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110849696773369087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110849696773369087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110849696773369087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110849696773369087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/way-it-is.html' title='The Way It Is'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110849648336403665</id><published>2005-02-15T11:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T11:41:23.366-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Days are Broken</title><content type='html'>Days are broken,&lt;br /&gt;All is turning; &lt;br /&gt;What isn't spoken, &lt;br /&gt;For all my yearning. &lt;br /&gt;You are giving, &lt;br /&gt;And so gratifying; &lt;br /&gt;To the strange living, &lt;br /&gt;Which is hard defying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life must go on,&lt;br /&gt;Through the day and night;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much done,&lt;br /&gt;For the things to turn right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days are hidden,&lt;br /&gt;In the horizon;&lt;br /&gt;Like an abbreviation,&lt;br /&gt;Before coming sun.&lt;br /&gt;Streets and gardens,&lt;br /&gt;With their yesterdays;&lt;br /&gt;Variation and wardens,&lt;br /&gt;From the certain declivities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life must go on,&lt;br /&gt;Through the day and night;&lt;br /&gt;Cobblestones and aileron,&lt;br /&gt;Everything from way at sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days are ours,&lt;br /&gt;Fresh and splendor;&lt;br /&gt;Wall time flowers,&lt;br /&gt;And all its engender.&lt;br /&gt;You are living,&lt;br /&gt;With constant gratifying;&lt;br /&gt;Positive and negativing,&lt;br /&gt;What the sight is eyeing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110849648336403665?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110849648336403665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110849648336403665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110849648336403665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110849648336403665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/days-are-broken.html' title='Days are Broken'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110849602067350441</id><published>2005-02-15T11:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T11:33:40.673-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love is Spring</title><content type='html'>Love is spring, &lt;br /&gt;Always whispering;&lt;br /&gt;All true being,&lt;br /&gt;Believe and seeing.&lt;br /&gt;I am there inside loving,&lt;br /&gt;Giving bright day a wing;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing more in the depth,&lt;br /&gt;Secrets in compartments kept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To you I sing,&lt;br /&gt;Like I were dreaming;&lt;br /&gt;Of all that's believing,&lt;br /&gt;From a trust achieving.&lt;br /&gt;You are there with my way,&lt;br /&gt;Sunshine looks brighten day;&lt;br /&gt;All I wish for and so dear,&lt;br /&gt;Songful oceans waves near.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is strings,&lt;br /&gt;Pearls of real things;&lt;br /&gt;All what I'll fight for,&lt;br /&gt;When storm befalls the shore.&lt;br /&gt;My only secure to be,&lt;br /&gt;All what ever sets me free;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing more in the depth,&lt;br /&gt;Secrets in compartments kept.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110849602067350441?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110849602067350441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110849602067350441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110849602067350441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110849602067350441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/love-is-spring.html' title='Love is Spring'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110848607711363217</id><published>2005-02-15T08:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T08:47:57.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Revisited Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Revisited thoughts,&lt;br /&gt;To each and every one;&lt;br /&gt;With their assorted oughts,&lt;br /&gt;And time already done.&lt;br /&gt;The night sky to mystify,&lt;br /&gt;The blinking lights away;&lt;br /&gt;Imagination will amplify,&lt;br /&gt;What may be seen in day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revisited gone years,&lt;br /&gt;With the many days born;&lt;br /&gt;From nightly visiting stares,&lt;br /&gt;Of eyes both old and worn.&lt;br /&gt;The night sky with sea lights,&lt;br /&gt;In the blackish dim gown;&lt;br /&gt;All the falling wishing flights,&lt;br /&gt;That now are on their own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revisited yesterdays,&lt;br /&gt;From where I'm standing now;&lt;br /&gt;What with a heart interplays,&lt;br /&gt;And mangles it somehow.&lt;br /&gt;The night is wide of superstition,&lt;br /&gt;Towering through the sky;&lt;br /&gt;Some are hard in definition,&lt;br /&gt;Others to the day will die.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110848607711363217?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110848607711363217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110848607711363217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110848607711363217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110848607711363217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/revisited-thoughts.html' title='Revisited Thoughts'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110848581789233170</id><published>2005-02-15T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T08:43:37.893-08:00</updated><title type='text'>There Is Day Coming Day</title><content type='html'>There is day coming day,&lt;br /&gt;So bright and so clear;&lt;br /&gt;With the light on its way,&lt;br /&gt;While the sun is so near.&lt;br /&gt;All wishes come true,&lt;br /&gt;When the time is there;&lt;br /&gt;In the hour to renew,&lt;br /&gt;After each lost affair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is day coming sun,&lt;br /&gt;With the hope that it has;&lt;br /&gt;All my worries on the run,&lt;br /&gt;In dark they will pass.&lt;br /&gt;Rain will stop its tears,&lt;br /&gt;In the flowing of the rays;&lt;br /&gt;Everything untouched appears,&lt;br /&gt;And again it will amaze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is day coming past,&lt;br /&gt;Our memories were born;&lt;br /&gt;Minutes into their cast,&lt;br /&gt;Now on old pictures worn.&lt;br /&gt;We have made it all through,&lt;br /&gt;Found the way to a heart,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing more to say or do;&lt;br /&gt;For new day will now start.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110848581789233170?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110848581789233170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110848581789233170' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110848581789233170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110848581789233170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/there-is-day-coming-day.html' title='There Is Day Coming Day'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110848568367520038</id><published>2005-02-15T08:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T08:41:23.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Only Us</title><content type='html'>It's Only Us - &lt;br /&gt;No one else there too,&lt;br /&gt;Two spirits fathomless&lt;br /&gt;Contrasting and accrue;&lt;br /&gt;The thoughts we say -&lt;br /&gt;With all the songs therein,&lt;br /&gt;From true minds play&lt;br /&gt;In a thoroughly interspin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Only you -&lt;br /&gt;With the songs to sing,&lt;br /&gt;From within the new&lt;br /&gt;And the onward spring;&lt;br /&gt;They are the tones -&lt;br /&gt;From guitar and piano,&lt;br /&gt;The musings birthstones&lt;br /&gt;The voice gives airflow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Only me -&lt;br /&gt;With poems I grow,&lt;br /&gt;From Pegasus free&lt;br /&gt;In the breeze they go;&lt;br /&gt;They are the words&lt;br /&gt;From a heart and soul,&lt;br /&gt;They fly on like birds&lt;br /&gt;With seeds and stems goal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110848568367520038?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110848568367520038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110848568367520038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110848568367520038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110848568367520038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/its-only-us.html' title='It&apos;s Only Us'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110848553479205158</id><published>2005-02-15T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T08:38:54.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She's The One</title><content type='html'>She's the one, &lt;br /&gt;With her many ways;&lt;br /&gt;Into the sun,&lt;br /&gt;All of her past days.&lt;br /&gt;Dreams are flowing,&lt;br /&gt;From star to star;&lt;br /&gt;All too much glowing,&lt;br /&gt;Seen from afar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's of mine,&lt;br /&gt;I love her just;&lt;br /&gt;Like the sunshine,&lt;br /&gt;My love to trust.&lt;br /&gt;Feelings are pure,&lt;br /&gt;All from within;&lt;br /&gt;Adonis will allure,&lt;br /&gt;Same to same akin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's the one,&lt;br /&gt;Fresh like a rose;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing can be done,&lt;br /&gt;With feelings that grows.&lt;br /&gt;Dream just and dream,&lt;br /&gt;For a closeness of her;&lt;br /&gt;We together seem,&lt;br /&gt;Our yearnings to steer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110848553479205158?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110848553479205158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110848553479205158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110848553479205158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110848553479205158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/shes-one.html' title='She&apos;s The One'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110848524729688750</id><published>2005-02-15T08:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T08:34:07.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nobody Waits</title><content type='html'>Nobody waits,&lt;br /&gt;For the sails to be full sails;&lt;br /&gt;Unreasoning debates,&lt;br /&gt;Are to no future avails.&lt;br /&gt;Singing sweet muses,&lt;br /&gt;Igniting the crystal rays;&lt;br /&gt;The broth with laurel abuses,&lt;br /&gt;In many different ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody's voice,&lt;br /&gt;Like birds in their beaks;&lt;br /&gt;Brings back sweet rejoice,&lt;br /&gt;From under the reeks.&lt;br /&gt;There upon my head,&lt;br /&gt;Voice spectrum in cloud;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing there aforesaid,&lt;br /&gt;That couldn't be reavowed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody still,&lt;br /&gt;Extraordinarily suddenly flowed; &lt;br /&gt;Within the drifting airmobile,&lt;br /&gt;From past sunset that glowed.&lt;br /&gt;It was like break in the breath,&lt;br /&gt;Gently rising with a wing;&lt;br /&gt;Flowers and grass from their death,&lt;br /&gt;When again there's river in spring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110848524729688750?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110848524729688750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110848524729688750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110848524729688750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110848524729688750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/nobody-waits.html' title='Nobody Waits'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110833712186271558</id><published>2005-02-13T15:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T15:25:21.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clots of Reddish Clay</title><content type='html'>Clots of reddish clay,&lt;br /&gt;Mouthed in its vent;&lt;br /&gt;Tender swooning play,&lt;br /&gt;Decreasing and augment.&lt;br /&gt;Morning coming back,&lt;br /&gt;Beneath the milky ways;&lt;br /&gt;Beaconing night black,&lt;br /&gt;With the brighter days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clots of darkish society,&lt;br /&gt;Driving its rim's heart;&lt;br /&gt;Giving none opportunity,&lt;br /&gt;Only the fulsome fart.&lt;br /&gt;Black as a black can be,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing in musky vessel;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing not forests for a tree,&lt;br /&gt;Critical eyes of a sessile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clots of wind driven theme,&lt;br /&gt;Why has hope been robed;&lt;br /&gt;What is there only beseem,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing of thoughtways probed.&lt;br /&gt;Morning coming back,&lt;br /&gt;What will the others hold;&lt;br /&gt;Empty and full of its lack,&lt;br /&gt;Rediscovered any untold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110833712186271558?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110833712186271558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110833712186271558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833712186271558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833712186271558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/clots-of-reddish-clay.html' title='Clots of Reddish Clay'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110833656120021804</id><published>2005-02-13T15:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T15:16:01.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Gave You Nothing</title><content type='html'>I gave you nothing,&lt;br /&gt;For you were not fresh;&lt;br /&gt;Only for bluffing,&lt;br /&gt;Only for less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming to be,&lt;br /&gt;Where places are from;&lt;br /&gt;I can not see,&lt;br /&gt;The interne's bloom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talent or not,&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't want this here;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is hot, &lt;br /&gt;Inside somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be of to dust,&lt;br /&gt;With a feeling like this;&lt;br /&gt;All thing must rust,&lt;br /&gt;For what it then is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ways are reptilian,&lt;br /&gt;Like games of their own;&lt;br /&gt;Then do what you can,&lt;br /&gt;In an other wise tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yellowing brown soil,&lt;br /&gt;Carceses the heart;&lt;br /&gt;Burrowed in foil,&lt;br /&gt;From the very start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are of grey,&lt;br /&gt;The feeling you give;&lt;br /&gt;Lost caracter's stray,&lt;br /&gt;In what you may live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The changings go on,&lt;br /&gt;Though never for you;&lt;br /&gt;For carcasses are done,&lt;br /&gt;That never were true.&lt;br /&gt;And what seem to be fun,&lt;br /&gt;Has left into the blue;&lt;br /&gt;Over past yon,&lt;br /&gt;Lies the rest all too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are of gray,&lt;br /&gt;The feeling you give;&lt;br /&gt;Lost caracter's stray,&lt;br /&gt;In what you may live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are and say...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110833656120021804?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110833656120021804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110833656120021804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833656120021804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833656120021804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/i-gave-you-nothing.html' title='I Gave You Nothing'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110833567392177575</id><published>2005-02-13T15:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T15:01:13.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain and Sun</title><content type='html'>Rain and sun,&lt;br /&gt;Every hour like that;&lt;br /&gt;Time's on the run,&lt;br /&gt;With feeling in the caveat.&lt;br /&gt;What have we found or lost,&lt;br /&gt;To our searching;&lt;br /&gt;What is the inside cost,&lt;br /&gt;That's here around lurching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treat not on simple smiles,&lt;br /&gt;All is in the minutes;&lt;br /&gt;We have just those whiles,&lt;br /&gt;That to the past aggregates.&lt;br /&gt;Close not the heart inside,&lt;br /&gt;Where it is drifting;&lt;br /&gt;Love will for hours abide,&lt;br /&gt;Before its abdicating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain and sun,&lt;br /&gt;Give each in fain;&lt;br /&gt;A red rose has fallen,&lt;br /&gt;From certainness and appertain.&lt;br /&gt;What we are giving here,&lt;br /&gt;All counts or nothing;&lt;br /&gt;A pain is so austere,&lt;br /&gt;When it is intervening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treat not my day with pain,&lt;br /&gt;I have a heart true;&lt;br /&gt;Understanding simple and plain,&lt;br /&gt;Now it's just up to you.&lt;br /&gt;What is there to give or share,&lt;br /&gt;Each touch so intimating;&lt;br /&gt;Love is the sweetest affair,&lt;br /&gt;But we are still learning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110833567392177575?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110833567392177575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110833567392177575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833567392177575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833567392177575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/rain-and-sun.html' title='Rain and Sun'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110833522524505098</id><published>2005-02-13T14:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T14:53:45.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Every Word That I'll Sing</title><content type='html'>Every word that I'll sing is yours,&lt;br /&gt;In one way or in the next;&lt;br /&gt;Remember this when time deplores,&lt;br /&gt;No one's free and unvexed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has taken us more than a while,&lt;br /&gt;Not a thought I've found is free;&lt;br /&gt;Find a moment that has gone a mile,&lt;br /&gt;All our dreams will be or not be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is everything we ever said,&lt;br /&gt;Ever changing waves of the air;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing will move further ahead,&lt;br /&gt;That has not come from elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bridge&lt;br /&gt;Every heart is to the yonder,&lt;br /&gt;Full of dreams that are gone by;&lt;br /&gt;Who can be ever more founder,&lt;br /&gt;Then the dreams of the blue sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every word shall go the distance,&lt;br /&gt;With a hope that is there in;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing with them up for a chance,&lt;br /&gt;You will either lose or win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days and things we used to know,&lt;br /&gt;Have a spot in many ways;&lt;br /&gt;Minutes and hours - times ago,&lt;br /&gt;Shall be within like photoplays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give a change and give a hope,&lt;br /&gt;What will come or be the same;&lt;br /&gt;Memories are life's chromoscope,&lt;br /&gt;Burning on like a candle flame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is love - if not all of this,&lt;br /&gt;Dreams go further on their wings;&lt;br /&gt;I have longed for with my wish,&lt;br /&gt;Every word remembered sings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110833522524505098?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110833522524505098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110833522524505098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833522524505098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833522524505098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/every-word-that-ill-sing.html' title='Every Word That I&apos;ll Sing'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110833486417606018</id><published>2005-02-13T14:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T14:47:44.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pulses in The Downstream</title><content type='html'>Pulses in the downstream,&lt;br /&gt;From all the old days gone;&lt;br /&gt;Complicated undisciplined seem,&lt;br /&gt;In and out the autobahn.&lt;br /&gt;Withered leaves of yesterday,&lt;br /&gt;Whistling in the breeze;&lt;br /&gt;With shades of a morning gray,&lt;br /&gt;Around the barren trees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon will come the morning,&lt;br /&gt;With dawn on someone's street;&lt;br /&gt;Desire and all its yearning,&lt;br /&gt;Making thoughts so bittersweet.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight's life though must go on,&lt;br /&gt;Before another day begins;&lt;br /&gt;What has past - is a cabochon,&lt;br /&gt;For the worries and chagrins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pulses in submission,&lt;br /&gt;By a world that can not hope;&lt;br /&gt;For the day's of superstition,&lt;br /&gt;Purgatorial fires and zootrope.&lt;br /&gt;Making for this onward night,&lt;br /&gt;Dreams between or under sleep;&lt;br /&gt;Lost moments in their flight,&lt;br /&gt;Not the seeds of ours to keep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110833486417606018?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110833486417606018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110833486417606018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833486417606018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833486417606018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/pulses-in-downstream.html' title='Pulses in The Downstream'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110833467072725965</id><published>2005-02-13T14:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T14:44:30.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>March to Chad</title><content type='html'>March to Chad,&lt;br /&gt;Summer in the desert;&lt;br /&gt;What we know we had,&lt;br /&gt;In European comfort.&lt;br /&gt;People come everywhere,&lt;br /&gt;Day by the hour through;&lt;br /&gt;Into the waste here,&lt;br /&gt;Going from old to new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time buried images,&lt;br /&gt;Of what the year brings;&lt;br /&gt;All suffering adages,&lt;br /&gt;That to a courage sings.&lt;br /&gt;The affiliation flower,&lt;br /&gt;A straight line clear-cut;&lt;br /&gt;From inside timeless hour,&lt;br /&gt;That can not be accurate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trim the tree of blood,&lt;br /&gt;The torn tongue leaps;&lt;br /&gt;The centuries confounded,&lt;br /&gt;Wisdom there now sleeps.&lt;br /&gt;A flamed winged spark,&lt;br /&gt;The daughter of the air;&lt;br /&gt;The time has become dark,&lt;br /&gt;Dust to dust earth's hair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110833467072725965?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110833467072725965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110833467072725965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833467072725965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833467072725965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/march-to-chad.html' title='March to Chad'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110833441314987681</id><published>2005-02-13T14:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T14:40:13.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Raindrops Come and Go</title><content type='html'>The raindrops come and go,&lt;br /&gt;In any time and day;&lt;br /&gt;Summers wither or grow,&lt;br /&gt;In inter colors play.&lt;br /&gt;Everything will move on,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is standing still;&lt;br /&gt;What is then right or wrong,&lt;br /&gt;In any vaudeville.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The raindrops fall and cry,&lt;br /&gt;Glisten on the earth;&lt;br /&gt;From the cloudy sky,&lt;br /&gt;That gave rainbows birth.&lt;br /&gt;Like a freshly pearl,&lt;br /&gt;On the ground or bloom;&lt;br /&gt;A rivers waves awhirl,&lt;br /&gt;That in time is doom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The raindrops and rainbow,&lt;br /&gt;Freshly and the new;&lt;br /&gt;Like reflection afterglow,&lt;br /&gt;Of yesterdays fallen dew.&lt;br /&gt;Hours pass be forgotten,&lt;br /&gt;More ways come again;&lt;br /&gt;Old with the new trodden,&lt;br /&gt;All together to maintain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110833441314987681?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110833441314987681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110833441314987681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833441314987681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833441314987681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/raindrops-come-and-go.html' title='The Raindrops Come and Go'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110833425880258181</id><published>2005-02-13T14:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T14:37:38.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ice Crystal's Beauty</title><content type='html'>Ice crystal's beauty,&lt;br /&gt;In a forgotten passage;&lt;br /&gt;The roughness of infinity,&lt;br /&gt;In a fiery afterimage.&lt;br /&gt;The mystic of the dark,&lt;br /&gt;Flowing with the mist;&lt;br /&gt;Drifting light and spark,&lt;br /&gt;Twilight's evening twist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ice and fire contrast,&lt;br /&gt;The boundary of each;&lt;br /&gt;Showing deep its cast,&lt;br /&gt;Something to overreach.&lt;br /&gt;Playful in the moonlight,&lt;br /&gt;Expressing the flashes;&lt;br /&gt;Inner structure anthracite,&lt;br /&gt;Wall to wall airspaces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ice water reflection,&lt;br /&gt;Within indecisive walls;&lt;br /&gt;The underlying connection,&lt;br /&gt;From within giants halls.&lt;br /&gt;Mystic of polymorphous,&lt;br /&gt;Sculptures of phantoms;&lt;br /&gt;The beauty and fragileness,&lt;br /&gt;Of metaphor inside atoms.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110833425880258181?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110833425880258181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110833425880258181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833425880258181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833425880258181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/ice-crystals-beauty.html' title='Ice Crystal&apos;s Beauty'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110833414273269511</id><published>2005-02-13T14:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T14:35:42.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meetings With Summer</title><content type='html'>Meetings with summer,&lt;br /&gt;When the spring shall return;&lt;br /&gt;Color varieties strummer,&lt;br /&gt;The new seedlings to learn.&lt;br /&gt;Like the stars above burning,&lt;br /&gt;All is filled with morn light;&lt;br /&gt;And our hope is yearning,&lt;br /&gt;For the new and very bright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meetings with new day,&lt;br /&gt;That was not here before;&lt;br /&gt;Growth comes in to the allay,&lt;br /&gt;With flowers to adore.&lt;br /&gt;All what is of innocence,&lt;br /&gt;Now covering the earth;&lt;br /&gt;In great shade abundance,&lt;br /&gt;And the garden of rebirth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Returning in spring,&lt;br /&gt;Everything in fragrance;&lt;br /&gt;Bee on a rosebud buzzing,&lt;br /&gt;Life is fresh of instance.&lt;br /&gt;Apparitions manifest,&lt;br /&gt;Phrase callow creations; &lt;br /&gt;Summer's beauty abreast,&lt;br /&gt;Full age of expectations.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110833414273269511?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110833414273269511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110833414273269511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833414273269511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833414273269511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/meetings-with-summer.html' title='Meetings With Summer'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10816546.post-110833387822692376</id><published>2005-02-13T14:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T14:31:18.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Are You Made Of</title><content type='html'>What are you made of&lt;br /&gt;If not for a harvest?&lt;br /&gt;What are you made of&lt;br /&gt;If not for the very best?&lt;br /&gt;All things are different&lt;br /&gt;Burned through and had,&lt;br /&gt;You have to relent&lt;br /&gt;What that might add.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are we made of&lt;br /&gt;If not from a wood?&lt;br /&gt;What are we made of&lt;br /&gt;If nothing turns good?&lt;br /&gt;Dreams are away now&lt;br /&gt;Are they forgotten?&lt;br /&gt;Or shall we somehow&lt;br /&gt;Manage through the rotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I made of&lt;br /&gt;If not my own flesh?&lt;br /&gt;What am I made of&lt;br /&gt;If it's something less?&lt;br /&gt;Give, take another hour&lt;br /&gt;Reach to world's trough&lt;br /&gt;- Open up treasure chest,&lt;br /&gt;Start its engine's doff&lt;br /&gt;- All is within the armrest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10816546-110833387822692376?l=poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/feeds/110833387822692376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10816546&amp;postID=110833387822692376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833387822692376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10816546/posts/default/110833387822692376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poems-of-papa-due.blogspot.com/2005/02/what-are-you-made-of.html' title='What Are You Made Of'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
