I´m Speaking Soft Poem by Peter S. Quinn

I´m speaking soft not loudly
As the winter is here
With its brawling breeze proudly
Swift cold waves everywhere
Though the earth is still yellow
Brown mud in softly clay
Soon white frost says its hello
As we move on to December's day

I'm speaking tones in cold outside
Dancing leaves on falling
As echoes of yesterdays glide
And old gone summer is calling
Every day is now night in yearning
Playful strings of time thru
None of those are again turning
They are all gone into the blue

I´m speaking soft not too high
With branches of trees swinging
All must end - oh all must die
That our life´s dance and singing
Think of me in the tides of new
In the freshness of their giving
I tried my best to be true
Both in daydreams and in living