Sing Me From Your Heart Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Sing me from your heart
Something very close
Fresh like the morning start
Or garden's new found rose
All your air of living
Near in figurations’ mist
That true fragrance is giving
And your chin has kissed

Love song of evening’s fall
As I listen to the rain
On its timeless nocturnal call
Of coming winter's pain
Love that's never easy to say
As its senses awake
On the wintry harp on play
Of its blanching take

Sing me open and inward
Where the soul moments are
Heavy sorrow calling chord
To the morning distant star
In every weight of words
While night sky is shining
Murmur of echoes summer birds
As new paths are assigning