Time.. Poem by Peter S. Quinn

I am here for every rose
like a flowers garden,
and as the summer goes
and the winter harden.
Life will be and rise
in its spring's dew,
full of colored surprise
and the shades of new.

Like love's a beauty
for all the going on,
forever in time's free
and only in seasons gone.
So is life's purpose
some to give and wake,
an eternal moment's flows
what you are and make.

Time is for a reason
making up its whiles,
moments in each season
giving truth and styles.
Love's what makes time
youth and to its oldness,
born and to its prime
all its heart's caress.