Flowers Forgotten Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Our time has come to the evening now
Nothing forever stays the very same
It escapes to the blue somehow
In to its weak burning flickering flame
What you have kept in a garden now rust
Flowers forgotten in their chilly cold
Dry rot and forsaken like that of dust
Nothing to wake its colors to unfold

Striped of its hope and never more to sing
Comforting pleasures inside to please
Only sleet that from winter is taken
Much would I give to new posies back bring
In to this sorrow of stripped alone breeze
That plots of dark to life has awaken