Like A Caterpillar Time Poem by Peter S. Quinn

In the coming days of darkish winter song
Where the moods are falling to lowered keys
Distant pleasures and forgotten dillies
With pages of yesterdays coming along
When times were beauty of expedition
Like butterflies going gently in the air
With colored wings of ineffable tradition
That through the days is at drift anywhere

Like a caterpillar time is peeling through
Moments of going histories to the distant
Of infinity expectation to new
That comes along with old in coexistent
We are with thousands of radiant pleasures
Some be considered - in book of treasures