The Blue Flowers: Each Love Song Is Now Cold Poem by Peter S. Quinn

The blue yellow flowers
For days of true giving
Through winter hours
Of darkish night living

When day is still unclear
In the winter timeless song
And we to dreams are near
When we new summer long

The blue of the far sky
Is our only looking glass
Before spring comes high
In with its fresh green grass

Each love song is now cold
On frosty roses window
With nothing there to unfold
But winters iridescent glow