#6 (From,100 Love Poems) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Rain drops falling softly onto untruth
Wandering ways of every occasion
And bring in the flowing forward's spring youth
Take out and sweep every old abrasion
Water keeps still exquisite moments bounds
That soon will find the vaults and they divide
To have again the flowing occurring grounds
Which begun to rise with the in coming tide
Every outline is together for always
In deep dark clouds or the empty vast sky
Of which its one is looking to amaze
Bring their freshness to the splendid new rye
Have not the fair for a month of Sundays
Inside of each growth are withering ways