<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367</id><updated>2011-12-14T19:09:19.795-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lost Sonnets</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115945354731282087</id><published>2006-09-28T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T07:25:47.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 66, There Is Something</title><content type='html'>There is something that is here now snowing,&lt;br /&gt;In the heart that is sitting cold inside;&lt;br /&gt;For its throbbing's to memories owing,&lt;br /&gt;And still to those vanished moments abide.&lt;br /&gt;The truth is in your heart like a firm stone,&lt;br /&gt;Or flowers that give new morning pleasures;&lt;br /&gt;And in the gray shadows still sits alone,&lt;br /&gt;Finding in the coming hours countermeasures.&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful day, oh lost ongoing night, &lt;br /&gt;The moments that betrayed each flowing hour;&lt;br /&gt;All those thoughts that come and go in their flight,&lt;br /&gt;Like each bud that becomes a new flower.&lt;br /&gt;There is closure and nearness to them all,&lt;br /&gt;Like there is light here now, - where darkness did fall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115945354731282087?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115945354731282087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115945354731282087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945354731282087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945354731282087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-66-there-is-something.html' title='Sonnet 66, There Is Something'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115945336030908269</id><published>2006-09-28T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T07:22:40.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 65, Forget Adelaide</title><content type='html'>Forget Adelaide for she could not give love,&lt;br /&gt;Like the morning sky or dusky twilight;&lt;br /&gt;Only what is in heart and from above,&lt;br /&gt;Will know these feelings wrong from right.&lt;br /&gt;Like a melody it lingers with soft touch,&lt;br /&gt;And burns like fire inside the pale pink skin;&lt;br /&gt;For every desire says I love you so much,&lt;br /&gt;From what I feel and from the deep within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brittle like the rose that its thorns must hide,&lt;br /&gt;Each the lover's footsteps comes and then goes;&lt;br /&gt;Moods that adjust to the day and coincide,&lt;br /&gt;Before it loses its last sparkle that glows.&lt;br /&gt;Forget those that whisper love that's untrue,&lt;br /&gt;For all what is fake will soon say adieu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115945336030908269?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115945336030908269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115945336030908269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945336030908269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945336030908269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-65-forget-adelaide.html' title='Sonnet 65, Forget Adelaide'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115945275309120014</id><published>2006-09-28T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T07:13:20.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 64, Yesterday Dreams</title><content type='html'>All our yesterday dreams they come and go,&lt;br /&gt;In all those memories the days hold;&lt;br /&gt;And later obligation will be an embargo,&lt;br /&gt;To those affairs our love once controlled.&lt;br /&gt;Like everything that life gives away,&lt;br /&gt;In moods and feelings so many unknown;&lt;br /&gt;Assorted in meaning like a flower bouquet,&lt;br /&gt;These be tomorrows not completely shown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember each way that turned to the blue,&lt;br /&gt;If you want to catch a heart for it's gone;&lt;br /&gt;There is no time later to make an overview,&lt;br /&gt;Why this turned out so and why this was done.&lt;br /&gt;Turning ways of love are kindled like a flame&lt;br /&gt;Before one knows, it dies out: a place, a name.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115945275309120014?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115945275309120014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115945275309120014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945275309120014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945275309120014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-64-yesterday-dreams.html' title='Sonnet 64, Yesterday Dreams'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115945238663571406</id><published>2006-09-28T07:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T07:06:26.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 63, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star</title><content type='html'>Twinkle twinkle little star shining through,&lt;br /&gt;From day's faraway thoughts we can't foretell;&lt;br /&gt;We only get some wishes to preview,&lt;br /&gt;For we in light spend each our day and dwell.&lt;br /&gt;Each our wish is a drop in the ocean deep,&lt;br /&gt;With assortments of colors that come and go;&lt;br /&gt;With purpose plain like in the fairy-tale asleep,&lt;br /&gt;To keep the spirit of the dream world aglow.&lt;br /&gt;Within us are those days of thousand years,&lt;br /&gt;Like tranquil blossoms sweetest airy sounds;&lt;br /&gt;With everything the best of this world cheers,&lt;br /&gt;And together to the future it abounds.&lt;br /&gt;So glow my star to days ahead in time,&lt;br /&gt;Like there is reasons to every poems rime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115945238663571406?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115945238663571406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115945238663571406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945238663571406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945238663571406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-63-twinkle-twinkle-little-star.html' title='Sonnet 63, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115945204511939695</id><published>2006-09-28T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T07:00:45.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 62, The River Of Dark</title><content type='html'>The river of dark is coming in blue,&lt;br /&gt;For dusk of night is falling on the leaves;&lt;br /&gt;And all of love that was given to you,&lt;br /&gt;Will fall to sleepiness of lonesome and grieve.&lt;br /&gt;Each tender love given secretly to heart,&lt;br /&gt;Will be looked away in the dark twilight;&lt;br /&gt;And each of the words that feelings impart,&lt;br /&gt;Closes like the flower which falls to the night.&lt;br /&gt;For love is like daytime giving us meaning,&lt;br /&gt;Fiery like the wind coming from the plane;&lt;br /&gt;Forest songs to where the trees are leaning,&lt;br /&gt;Melodious and cautious then gone again.&lt;br /&gt;Each heart is open like an open road,&lt;br /&gt;You just have to learn its covert code.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115945204511939695?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115945204511939695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115945204511939695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945204511939695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945204511939695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-62-river-of-dark.html' title='Sonnet 62, The River Of Dark'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115945190116254783</id><published>2006-09-28T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T06:58:21.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 61, Love Song For Peace</title><content type='html'>I'm with a heart firmly in graceful peace,&lt;br /&gt;I believe in those dreams for all mankind;&lt;br /&gt;For each love in the world, feelings increase,&lt;br /&gt;And for this, none injustice be confined.&lt;br /&gt;Like a summer river is the passion repose,&lt;br /&gt;Or the passing breeze to the butterflies;&lt;br /&gt;Where the weakest sits on the bud of a rose,&lt;br /&gt;And with its smallest wings to the sky flies.&lt;br /&gt;Let there not be war when love is with you,&lt;br /&gt;In the coming times with the morning bright;&lt;br /&gt;Let our feelings and trust be a breakthrough,&lt;br /&gt;Like the new dawn from the darkest of night!&lt;br /&gt;If peace be weak, - it's because we care not,&lt;br /&gt;And more to belligerence then allot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115945190116254783?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115945190116254783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115945190116254783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945190116254783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945190116254783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-61-love-song-for-peace.html' title='Sonnet 61, Love Song For Peace'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115945157427222948</id><published>2006-09-28T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T06:52:54.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 60, Let Me Become</title><content type='html'>Let me become your guardian angel,&lt;br /&gt;For tomorrow comes while you sleep;&lt;br /&gt;Your heart is quite fragile and abysmal,&lt;br /&gt;For your love is so longing and deep.&lt;br /&gt;And if some sorrow becomes accessible,&lt;br /&gt;I will give a pair of eyes full of smile;&lt;br /&gt;So the world becomes again acceptable,&lt;br /&gt;Comforting with joyous thoughts for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;Like the summer wind that whispers softly,&lt;br /&gt;To the earth and forest as it goes by;&lt;br /&gt;Full of faithfulness and tranquility,&lt;br /&gt;Only true trust can catch and beautify.&lt;br /&gt;Fly on my wings to Never Never Land,&lt;br /&gt;I will there all your feelings understand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115945157427222948?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115945157427222948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115945157427222948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945157427222948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945157427222948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-60-let-me-become.html' title='Sonnet 60, Let Me Become'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115945112665980237</id><published>2006-09-28T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T06:45:26.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 59, All Love's Alike</title><content type='html'>"All love's alike - the ever returning&lt;br /&gt;Flame of the morning and breeze of the night,&lt;br /&gt;Like the fumes of life in hearts are burning&lt;br /&gt;And weighting upon what is wrong and right.&lt;br /&gt;We leave with clouds that life designed&lt;br /&gt;and confess it's broken or again distressed,&lt;br /&gt;Like darkness in light is love often blind&lt;br /&gt;And not remembering what it once assessed.&lt;br /&gt;Time is both day and night, it comes and goes&lt;br /&gt;With a touch that breathed into silentness, &lt;br /&gt;To the unknown that's awaken in embryos&lt;br /&gt;Before the risen dawn vigilantness.&lt;br /&gt;Love is like this, clearest feelings fitful,&lt;br /&gt;Flows and burns, - contrasts become never dull".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115945112665980237?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115945112665980237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115945112665980237' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945112665980237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945112665980237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-59-all-loves-alike.html' title='Sonnet 59, All Love&apos;s Alike'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115945074964980542</id><published>2006-09-28T06:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T06:39:09.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 58, I'm Now Remembering</title><content type='html'>I'm now remembering lost yesterdays,&lt;br /&gt;When the going was here going still on;&lt;br /&gt;And our hearts were still in the burning trays,&lt;br /&gt;We had love and yes too much of every fun.&lt;br /&gt;Every hour was feeling becoming fine,&lt;br /&gt;Every morning I woke up to be fresh;&lt;br /&gt;The days were full of laughter and sunshine,&lt;br /&gt;Before my heart became knotted in enmesh.&lt;br /&gt;There is a light away gone forever,&lt;br /&gt;Every word from there lost now at and gone;&lt;br /&gt;The thoughts that once were so new and clever,&lt;br /&gt;Losing their sound like sweetest carillon.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterdays were standing a while ago,&lt;br /&gt;Oblivion now chiming to the distant grow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115945074964980542?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115945074964980542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115945074964980542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945074964980542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115945074964980542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-58-im-now-remembering.html' title='Sonnet 58, I&apos;m Now Remembering'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115944940876167450</id><published>2006-09-28T06:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T06:16:48.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 57, So Sweet</title><content type='html'>So sweet is thy rose it gives greatest joy,&lt;br /&gt;To live close and near to your music and words;&lt;br /&gt;Which comes from a garden - from the inwards,&lt;br /&gt;They inspire this muse - nothing can there destroy.&lt;br /&gt;Thy beauty is complex in single envoy,&lt;br /&gt;With lines like roses or poppies vineyards;&lt;br /&gt;Never to the mind they loosen up buzzards,&lt;br /&gt;They come from the truest feelings employ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each hour then read more deeply in to this,&lt;br /&gt;And know each line - its delicate poison, true,&lt;br /&gt;Like lilacs or honeysuckle they are there;&lt;br /&gt;For the troubled eyes to see inside to bliss,&lt;br /&gt;And everything old they will renew,&lt;br /&gt;For unto touched heart in feelings they bear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115944940876167450?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115944940876167450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115944940876167450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115944940876167450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115944940876167450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-57-so-sweet.html' title='Sonnet 57, So Sweet'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115944783734771458</id><published>2006-09-28T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T05:50:37.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 56, My Sweetest Rose</title><content type='html'>My sweetest rose of summer's morning neat,&lt;br /&gt;With sky above so blue and far from sight;&lt;br /&gt;Each of your line more perfect and compete, &lt;br /&gt;Than anything that in this world is finite;&lt;br /&gt;And all my love is likewise roses and buds,&lt;br /&gt;Flowery shade that in autumn's complete;&lt;br /&gt;Never to dry up like the earthy fluids,&lt;br /&gt;Only be in hearts sometimes bittersweet.&lt;br /&gt;Wonderful flame of joys in this faint life,&lt;br /&gt;Silent struggle between each day and night; &lt;br /&gt;Every such a longing we need and is rife,&lt;br /&gt;What will bring us on the road again right;&lt;br /&gt;Summer sweetness so fresh in the morns air,&lt;br /&gt;That all is everything we won't despair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115944783734771458?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115944783734771458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115944783734771458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115944783734771458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115944783734771458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-56-my-sweetest-rose.html' title='Sonnet 56, My Sweetest Rose'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115944717777455249</id><published>2006-09-28T05:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T05:39:37.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 55, Modern Man</title><content type='html'>Modern man is constantly through sorrow,&lt;br /&gt;When again what he has lost has been found;&lt;br /&gt;Is there a place for somewhere tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;Where a searching heart is not strictly bound?&lt;br /&gt;Of any but from what it starts to assume,&lt;br /&gt;That ever since then has shown its promise;&lt;br /&gt;Like the river wild and the fairest bloom,&lt;br /&gt;Which in young spring returns to summer bliss.&lt;br /&gt;Silent mornings that have been satisfied,&lt;br /&gt;When the winter was still so full of snow;&lt;br /&gt;All past memories tried to be beautified,&lt;br /&gt;When your heart from these hours gave an echo.&lt;br /&gt;The lost is lost like the wind in the trees,&lt;br /&gt;Alone on their road of absorbencies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115944717777455249?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115944717777455249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115944717777455249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115944717777455249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115944717777455249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-55-modern-man.html' title='Sonnet 55, Modern Man'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115944607180241362</id><published>2006-09-28T05:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T05:21:11.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 54, Love is Like an Angel</title><content type='html'>Love is like an angel that comes and goes,&lt;br /&gt;Sweetly flowered of the emotions past;&lt;br /&gt;Summer songs and autumn that can't last,&lt;br /&gt;Everything that in fable memory grows.&lt;br /&gt;What is this but of feelings? A heart only knows,&lt;br /&gt;And rich in every variations contrast,&lt;br /&gt;In all its diversities rooted and grassed,&lt;br /&gt;With songs from your life it sings and borrows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swirly Stars fallen from heaven to die,&lt;br /&gt;Into the time of dark they'll sleep away,&lt;br /&gt;With autumn leaves and brownish layered rust;&lt;br /&gt;Like of earth that again will say goodbye,&lt;br /&gt;When colours wither and then go astray,&lt;br /&gt;For all what is love - returns to earth dust.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115944607180241362?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115944607180241362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115944607180241362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115944607180241362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115944607180241362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-54-love-is-like-angel.html' title='Sonnet 54, Love is Like an Angel'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115944579541025153</id><published>2006-09-28T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T05:16:35.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 53, Is there Evere Going To Be</title><content type='html'>Is there ever going to be the song,&lt;br /&gt;So full of romantic and sweetest themes;&lt;br /&gt;Equally both for old and the young,&lt;br /&gt;Or are these just ordinarily pipe dreams?&lt;br /&gt;Is there ever going to be someone,&lt;br /&gt;Like you that will dance on and on through days;&lt;br /&gt;With old thoughts in some newly torison,&lt;br /&gt;Which generations of tomorrow assays?&lt;br /&gt;Full of interior bridges that will follow,&lt;br /&gt;Where you are or where the maping is drawn;&lt;br /&gt;Its dream is like a dream that is hollow,&lt;br /&gt;Or meadows that in entity are spawn.&lt;br /&gt;Ignore barriers that always come along,&lt;br /&gt;For weak is as weak as strong is thus strong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115944579541025153?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115944579541025153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115944579541025153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115944579541025153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115944579541025153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-53-is-there-evere-going-to-be.html' title='Sonnet 53, Is there Evere Going To Be'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115944574719932026</id><published>2006-09-28T05:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T05:15:47.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 52, I'll Call Upon You</title><content type='html'>I'll call upon you summer butterfly,&lt;br /&gt;When fertile spring comes in freshly again;&lt;br /&gt;With colors to fill meadows and the sky,&lt;br /&gt;Nuance becomes new spring's artillerymen.&lt;br /&gt;When a day grows up in sweet fragrant strong,&lt;br /&gt;To fulfill and release the puerile spirit;&lt;br /&gt;Our poem becomes an earth green song,&lt;br /&gt;Dreaming and being affectionate.&lt;br /&gt;And all that was in earth seeds so fragile,&lt;br /&gt;Once more grows up fresh and ever so wild;&lt;br /&gt;Like your wings are fluffy and erectable,&lt;br /&gt;So is my youngish breast in spring profiled.&lt;br /&gt;Summer goddess grow up thy coronal,&lt;br /&gt;Before again winter comes to your bridal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115944574719932026?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115944574719932026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115944574719932026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115944574719932026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115944574719932026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-52-ill-call-upon-you.html' title='Sonnet 52, I&apos;ll Call Upon You'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115941541019248897</id><published>2006-09-27T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T20:50:10.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 51, If You Think</title><content type='html'>If you think love will hold on to you tight,&lt;br /&gt;Notice love is turning around every day;&lt;br /&gt;You may be in places wrongly or right,&lt;br /&gt;Whatever's lost may be coming your way.&lt;br /&gt;It can be hard to catch a burning flame,&lt;br /&gt;Without meaning to give it affirmation;&lt;br /&gt;For the fire never stays exactly the same,&lt;br /&gt;It turns around the horizon like a beacon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A heart that ticks and ticks is never empty,&lt;br /&gt;It'll burn its flames long into the dark night,&lt;br /&gt;For joy is there to challenge the morning sun;&lt;br /&gt;And every gleaming that is aberrancy,&lt;br /&gt;For fire of feelings has lots of appetite, &lt;br /&gt;That carries adoration more on and on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115941541019248897?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115941541019248897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115941541019248897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941541019248897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941541019248897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-51-if-you-think.html' title='Sonnet 51, If You Think'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115941470648162712</id><published>2006-09-27T20:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T20:38:26.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 50, Flying</title><content type='html'>Flying through time like clouds of horizon,&lt;br /&gt;Overwhelming questions against the sky;&lt;br /&gt;Muttering retreats until the intent was gone,&lt;br /&gt;Seeing Michelangelo like you and I.&lt;br /&gt;The lingering night with a sudden leap, &lt;br /&gt;Evenings at window-pains that come and go;&lt;br /&gt;Tongue on streets that is falling asleep,&lt;br /&gt;Curling up like smoke or an afterglow.&lt;br /&gt;The room is full of  corners softening out,&lt;br /&gt;Filling up with shadows draining the light;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody now is going there about,&lt;br /&gt;Half-deserted meanings of what's wrong or right.&lt;br /&gt;Tedious argument that every thought follows,&lt;br /&gt;Dry air of the palpable obscure swallows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115941470648162712?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115941470648162712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115941470648162712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941470648162712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941470648162712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-50-flying.html' title='Sonnet 50, Flying'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115941375591167480</id><published>2006-09-27T20:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T20:22:35.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 49, The Spirit of The Earth</title><content type='html'>The spirit of the earth, - the summer song &lt;br /&gt;The soul that is blazing like the new dawn,&lt;br /&gt;Into the sky blue far under the yawn&lt;br /&gt;When moods come together after night long;&lt;br /&gt;River of feelings and colors so strong&lt;br /&gt;Drop away shadows that were on the lawn,&lt;br /&gt;Drive up the spirit that from a wing spawn&lt;br /&gt;Where voices of earth gave a joyous tong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sparking of day that's joyous for all&lt;br /&gt;In giving a song where silence once filled,&lt;br /&gt;Upon the earth where sweet longings are;&lt;br /&gt;Yes all of love love's to the true hearts call&lt;br /&gt;And brings to the daylight what was distilled,&lt;br /&gt;When night from the dreams is gone long and far.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115941375591167480?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115941375591167480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115941375591167480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941375591167480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941375591167480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-49-spirit-of-earth.html' title='Sonnet 49, The Spirit of The Earth'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115941341021403969</id><published>2006-09-27T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T20:16:50.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 48, The Name of Each Season</title><content type='html'>The name of each season - eternity&lt;br /&gt;Like the summers of flowers that come and go,&lt;br /&gt;With luster thus spreading like a wind blow&lt;br /&gt;That lives with the gust - forever so free;&lt;br /&gt;The ancient of times and sometime to be&lt;br /&gt;Dawn with the painting from the palette's glow,&lt;br /&gt;That rises with spring after winter's snow&lt;br /&gt;For the young born in heart always to see.&lt;br /&gt;It's like music of earth in freshness of days&lt;br /&gt;Coming with seeds and carrying their ways,&lt;br /&gt;When the dark is absent on the blue skies;&lt;br /&gt;The primal of colors in waking caress&lt;br /&gt;And giving enjoyment for what was once less,&lt;br /&gt;The sights and the sounds of summer surprise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115941341021403969?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115941341021403969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115941341021403969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941341021403969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941341021403969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-48-name-of-each-season.html' title='Sonnet 48, The Name of Each Season'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115941298214810643</id><published>2006-09-27T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T20:09:42.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 47, The Voice of Dreams</title><content type='html'>The sky in my sunrise comes like avowed&lt;br /&gt;With colors in sunshine and shades in dark,&lt;br /&gt;And everything love will give and then spark&lt;br /&gt;To cast on its light and have more endowed;&lt;br /&gt;For dreams I live can only be unplowed&lt;br /&gt;If days appear as the evenings remark,&lt;br /&gt;Give me the songs from the daybreak's first lark&lt;br /&gt;That once to afternoon singing's allowed.&lt;br /&gt;The voice of my music will move to song&lt;br /&gt;And bring from my soul - to lips and the heart,&lt;br /&gt;For all is of dream that I love and long&lt;br /&gt;And from within touch will never depart;&lt;br /&gt;The voice that's of dreams can it then begin?&lt;br /&gt;If we have others - and never tune in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115941298214810643?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115941298214810643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115941298214810643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941298214810643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941298214810643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-47-voice-of-dreams.html' title='Sonnet 47, The Voice of Dreams'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115941279107374768</id><published>2006-09-27T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T20:06:31.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 46, Rising and Falling of Roses so Sweet</title><content type='html'>Rising and falling of roses so sweet,&lt;br /&gt;With anger - bloodthirsty, which only mar,&lt;br /&gt;Just like the glow of a night falling star&lt;br /&gt;That ill fate thus to death only will treat;&lt;br /&gt;Hasty orisons oh bloodily stained street,&lt;br /&gt;Haven't we reached for a death wish too far?&lt;br /&gt;Giving peace to brutality of war,&lt;br /&gt;Reaching out to emptiness and deceit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's young candles burning up in their flames,&lt;br /&gt;Before daylight comes again virgin clear&lt;br /&gt;With holly glimmers of nightly good-byes;&lt;br /&gt;In love, that hour of twilight only tames&lt;br /&gt;When light shall fill up the morning so near:&lt;br /&gt;Like new hope far reaching, with young bright skies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115941279107374768?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115941279107374768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115941279107374768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941279107374768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941279107374768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-46-rising-and-falling-of-roses.html' title='Sonnet 46, Rising and Falling of Roses so Sweet'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115941249215085859</id><published>2006-09-27T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T20:01:32.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 45, My Freedom</title><content type='html'>My freedom gives me courage and free will&lt;br /&gt;To walk away from insolence and nuisance,&lt;br /&gt;What man in his mood utter and then spraints&lt;br /&gt;From mouth - the good corn with envy he'll spill;&lt;br /&gt;Only evil spirit - will his voice distill,&lt;br /&gt;All of his words will continue only ance&lt;br /&gt;For what he was saying to true ears faints,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing in his love the earth can fulfill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the wisdom that is from the above:&lt;br /&gt;Is full of mercy and gentle with good fruit&lt;br /&gt;Without estimate and hypocrisy;&lt;br /&gt;For it thrives only on man's honest love&lt;br /&gt;And righteousness, - not quarrel or dispute;&lt;br /&gt;Is sown in peace of them that make peace free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115941249215085859?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115941249215085859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115941249215085859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941249215085859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941249215085859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-45-my-freedom.html' title='Sonnet 45, My Freedom'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115941124712430743</id><published>2006-09-27T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T19:40:47.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 44, Imagined Poems</title><content type='html'>Our imagined poems are like the real one&lt;br /&gt;They fill your heart with strangest singing too,&lt;br /&gt;And each of them is like those that are new&lt;br /&gt;And lightly not to the real ones be taken;&lt;br /&gt;For words are here for thoughts to be awaken&lt;br /&gt;Give a meaning that will fill or be true,&lt;br /&gt;And they will be a partner in time due&lt;br /&gt;If they're not derelict or be mistaken.&lt;br /&gt;With words into thoughts you can fly away&lt;br /&gt;Wishes to be born and make dreams seem real,&lt;br /&gt;Every small hope to be alive again;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing you wised for will lead astray&lt;br /&gt;For those are just thoughts you alone will feel,&lt;br /&gt;Gone within a moment - simple and plain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115941124712430743?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115941124712430743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115941124712430743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941124712430743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115941124712430743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-44-imagined-poems.html' title='Sonnet 44, Imagined Poems'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115940998866719202</id><published>2006-09-27T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T19:19:48.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 43, I Love You</title><content type='html'>I'll always love you like new spring that comes&lt;br /&gt;And turns my soul to the fresh and the new,&lt;br /&gt;Summer seedlings that soon be of autumns&lt;br /&gt;Like in morning's the sweetest of fallen dew;&lt;br /&gt;Your heart's of colors I can not find name&lt;br /&gt;For all our feelings are thread on that string,&lt;br /&gt;You are to me like the life's burning flame&lt;br /&gt;That in eternity always will sing.&lt;br /&gt;"I love you" echoes to clear the road on&lt;br /&gt;Footsteps to pass and come to memory,&lt;br /&gt;All is of feelings and what is now gone,&lt;br /&gt;If ever we have thoughts clearly to see.&lt;br /&gt;My heart's a whisper - you softly will hear,&lt;br /&gt;When always you feel me close to your ear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115940998866719202?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115940998866719202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115940998866719202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115940998866719202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115940998866719202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-43-i-love-you.html' title='Sonnet 43, I Love You'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-115940809412450019</id><published>2006-09-27T18:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T19:11:56.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 42, All Things Must Past</title><content type='html'>All things must past what of day is here born&lt;br /&gt;First it gives pleasure and then it is gone,&lt;br /&gt;Like a glow from dawn's new early pylon&lt;br /&gt;Light of the day that to dark is forsworn;&lt;br /&gt;All what to fate is impaired and forlorn&lt;br /&gt;Turning to echoes like fading carillon,&lt;br /&gt;Forgot in darkness what once was of dawn&lt;br /&gt;First it was merry - but now it is lorn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dwell not on that - but forget like wish,&lt;br /&gt;All must wither as this summer so sweet&lt;br /&gt;That with colors and beauty down will treat;&lt;br /&gt;Like every thought that will drift from a mind,&lt;br /&gt;Love is the thing that gives most anguish&lt;br /&gt;And like purest of truth sometimes is blind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-115940809412450019?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/115940809412450019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=115940809412450019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115940809412450019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/115940809412450019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2006/09/sonnet-42-all-things-must-past.html' title='Sonnet 42, All Things Must Past'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359273699578297</id><published>2005-12-02T22:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:52:16.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 41, Uprooted Heavier</title><content type='html'>Uprooted heavier than plough of steel,&lt;br /&gt;The faltered moment for the avert eye;&lt;br /&gt;And like the time aging fast forward weel,&lt;br /&gt;Moment of the hour that will lose and die.&lt;br /&gt;We spend our time with occasion's found,&lt;br /&gt;And greeting good morrow that forthly goes;&lt;br /&gt;Burning age fast with benignant beam bound,&lt;br /&gt;Rays of rising dawn pastured on a rose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonders of the world without any names, &lt;br /&gt;Relising the hour that will come again,&lt;br /&gt;To the foul dark twisting this prow and age;&lt;br /&gt;Burning in the sky red and yellow flames,&lt;br /&gt;Until there's prosper satisfaction begin,&lt;br /&gt;To relase the kindle that new day will engage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359273699578297?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359273699578297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359273699578297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359273699578297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359273699578297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-41-uprooted-heavier.html' title='Sonnet 41, Uprooted Heavier'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359243961862613</id><published>2005-12-02T22:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:47:19.620-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 40, To Songful Melodies</title><content type='html'>To songful melodies let these words sing&lt;br /&gt;Together and set the sweetest harmony,&lt;br /&gt;With love and attraction once again free&lt;br /&gt;Soon after tomorrow there will be spring;&lt;br /&gt;All days will be new in colors blooming&lt;br /&gt;And freshly will the wind breeze through a tree,&lt;br /&gt;I feel like new summer inside of me&lt;br /&gt;Every earth seed in my heart's now booming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is youth full of delight on the rise &lt;br /&gt;With much love and peace after months in brume,&lt;br /&gt;For new springtime is starting again;&lt;br /&gt;The hour is joyful and weather is wise&lt;br /&gt;With the weakest flowers turning to bloom:&lt;br /&gt;All bright colored and simple to attain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359243961862613?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359243961862613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359243961862613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359243961862613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359243961862613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-40-to-songful-melodies.html' title='Sonnet 40, To Songful Melodies'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359226686139718</id><published>2005-12-02T22:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:44:26.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 39, To Oblivion</title><content type='html'>They are drowning the thoughts into the bowl&lt;br /&gt;Of oblivion wings to forgotten and gone,&lt;br /&gt;What you have filled with old days that are done&lt;br /&gt;Rotten in the roots of the lost and the foul;&lt;br /&gt;Oh drink up thy cup before its own rowl&lt;br /&gt;For you must do carry the wordings all on,&lt;br /&gt;Though over them all forgotten flame will run&lt;br /&gt;And all you will remember the past howl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The days of new thoughts have left evermore&lt;br /&gt;When rising from aged the muffling mould,&lt;br /&gt;Dipping into silence and covering the sea;&lt;br /&gt;Closing the once opened knowledgeable door&lt;br /&gt;That gave to the wise wisdom many fold,&lt;br /&gt;Now fail growing and becoming agee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359226686139718?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359226686139718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359226686139718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359226686139718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359226686139718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-39-to-oblivion.html' title='Sonnet 39, To Oblivion'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359202852679006</id><published>2005-12-02T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:40:28.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 38, This Time Renews Each Moment</title><content type='html'>This time renews each moment like a blink&lt;br /&gt;Though we walk in a world without a name,&lt;br /&gt;With questions that attend to be the same&lt;br /&gt;Each onward step to the future's like a brink;&lt;br /&gt;Though ages before were widening chink &lt;br /&gt;Tittering chalk afresh we will acclaim,&lt;br /&gt;When by and by again renewed arrame&lt;br /&gt;For all what's now later will swiftly crink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our tolerance upon impatience arm&lt;br /&gt;Where inverted flag keeps the colors still,&lt;br /&gt;Weapons bring forth what shall not be disown;&lt;br /&gt;Each of these two are proudly of reclame&lt;br /&gt;And both from the fright and reproach they drill,&lt;br /&gt;As the corn will grow as the seed is sown.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359202852679006?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359202852679006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359202852679006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359202852679006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359202852679006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-38-this-time-renews-each-moment.html' title='Sonnet 38, This Time Renews Each Moment'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359192127684735</id><published>2005-12-02T22:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:38:41.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 37, This Love</title><content type='html'>This love is only dead or else it's born&lt;br /&gt;Into the trouble that before life lies,&lt;br /&gt;I swear that mood grows allot of the awn&lt;br /&gt;With delicate poison that into earth dries;&lt;br /&gt;Like each of your pleasure into the draught&lt;br /&gt;Between two worlds of the good and the bad,&lt;br /&gt;Of what you have made and what you have brought&lt;br /&gt;What gives you happiness what makes you sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dance, dance, dance not in doubt from a shadow,&lt;br /&gt;But in the light that will rise from your own&lt;br /&gt;When your heart knows alive love from one dead;&lt;br /&gt;For every thought that's given has its glow&lt;br /&gt;And each word to the ground like a seed's sown:&lt;br /&gt;Give not of thy stones as if they were bread.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359192127684735?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359192127684735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359192127684735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359192127684735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359192127684735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-37-this-love.html' title='Sonnet 37, This Love'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359179670411762</id><published>2005-12-02T22:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:36:36.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 36, There's Song for The Summer</title><content type='html'>There's song for the summer now coming out &lt;br /&gt;Passing flights of songsters through the green trees,&lt;br /&gt;All the sleeping beauty coming now about&lt;br /&gt;Demented choirs gone in the winter breeze;&lt;br /&gt;Rapid seedlings growing from the soil up&lt;br /&gt;Calling to the clouds passing by with rain,&lt;br /&gt;Every mountain like a faraway blue top&lt;br /&gt;Taking out the grayness of the frosty lain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilies of the valleys adornment in thy eyes&lt;br /&gt;Bringing through the darkness love they have grown,&lt;br /&gt;Colors from dark roots under that never dries;&lt;br /&gt;Love songs that the summer can call its own,&lt;br /&gt;We have in our life futures we have self made&lt;br /&gt;Which's so full of thoughts and composite aggrade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359179670411762?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359179670411762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359179670411762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359179670411762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359179670411762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-36-theres-song-for-summer.html' title='Sonnet 36, There&apos;s Song for The Summer'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359166987579679</id><published>2005-12-02T22:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:34:29.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 35, There's Love There's Love</title><content type='html'>There's love there's love there's no doubt&lt;br /&gt;Found in a corner of all this tick tacking,&lt;br /&gt;Row like a row drift like a cloud there about&lt;br /&gt;Each of the fumes up and away stacking;&lt;br /&gt;White to the dark in the losing stray&lt;br /&gt;Where will it go come when mist follows,&lt;br /&gt;All in hours forever lost as they say&lt;br /&gt;When the wind in the sky again ablows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singing tunes the gusting circling wind&lt;br /&gt;Flying dancing with other forest songs&lt;br /&gt;Till there's again early morning of new;&lt;br /&gt;Some will be just - others more left behind&lt;br /&gt;The tunes aloud transforming in a bang,&lt;br /&gt;Everything's turning nothing same will do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359166987579679?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359166987579679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359166987579679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359166987579679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359166987579679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-35-theres-love-theres-love.html' title='Sonnet 35, There&apos;s Love There&apos;s Love'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359132744601951</id><published>2005-12-02T22:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:28:47.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 34, There's a Love Song</title><content type='html'>There's a love song in winter's dimly night&lt;br /&gt;With beautiful things for tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;All love is like gladness and sorrow&lt;br /&gt;A lonely cloud wandering in a distant flight;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the sky is blue and bright&lt;br /&gt;With shades from the deep in blue ambaro,&lt;br /&gt;Reaching to the horizon like saguaro&lt;br /&gt;For all the dreams that still are out of sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No past morning would sing again to me&lt;br /&gt;If there were no love songs to remember,&lt;br /&gt;For memories in heart are roots quite fresh;&lt;br /&gt;Giving to past wings again new and free&lt;br /&gt;Like a seasoned autumn in September,&lt;br /&gt;Pictures to assert colors from time bresh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359132744601951?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359132744601951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359132744601951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359132744601951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359132744601951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-34-theres-love-song.html' title='Sonnet 34, There&apos;s a Love Song'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359123471477426</id><published>2005-12-02T22:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:27:14.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 33, There is a Moment</title><content type='html'>There is a moment in Eden tonight:&lt;br /&gt;Colors so plentiful and pure,&lt;br /&gt;Everything of love - made to assure&lt;br /&gt;It's a turning soul toward the daylight;&lt;br /&gt;And comes to shadows-with shades in bright&lt;br /&gt;All beautiful things to and fro, to allure&lt;br /&gt;Soft with soft touches like animal fur,&lt;br /&gt;Our feelings in all its loftiness and flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These darkish hours into the unknown gone&lt;br /&gt;Full of clouds of drifting thoughts in pleasure&lt;br /&gt;River of wishes from the beating heart&lt;br /&gt;What's it all worth of - gold from the rising sun?&lt;br /&gt;As true as the rainbow's hidden treasure,&lt;br /&gt;Of what is this meaningful living part?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359123471477426?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359123471477426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359123471477426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359123471477426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359123471477426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-33-there-is-moment.html' title='Sonnet 33, There is a Moment'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359104256045510</id><published>2005-12-02T22:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:24:02.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 32, There is a Garden</title><content type='html'>There is a garden with the summer sun&lt;br /&gt;Full of laughter and true flowers for all,&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful and strong others weaker and small&lt;br /&gt;Carrying colors turning pleasures on;&lt;br /&gt;All in the hours when blooming are so bon&lt;br /&gt;And green comes the garden outside a wall,&lt;br /&gt;Going through fine moments before the fall&lt;br /&gt;When in sallow leaves all the colors run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passing through time like the colors so full&lt;br /&gt;Giving the green an agreeable occasion,&lt;br /&gt;All what is fair will always be growing;&lt;br /&gt;Now Easter coming new pleasures to pull&lt;br /&gt;After the darkness that gave its corrosion,&lt;br /&gt;When winter was dark and it's still snowing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359104256045510?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359104256045510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359104256045510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359104256045510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359104256045510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-32-there-is-garden.html' title='Sonnet 32, There is a Garden'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359094748246028</id><published>2005-12-02T22:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:22:27.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 31, The River Runs</title><content type='html'>The river runs through the mountain of wild,&lt;br /&gt;All things on this earth are born to be free;&lt;br /&gt;Both what is made up or later compiled,&lt;br /&gt;Some scenes hidden once we never could see.&lt;br /&gt;Lets not go in judgment a bridge too far,&lt;br /&gt;Even though you could say the fruits are sour;&lt;br /&gt;For there might be an entry slightly ajar,&lt;br /&gt;Giving you some knowledge from where is more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never lift the latch let this building fall,&lt;br /&gt;If it's deference isn't truth among great,&lt;br /&gt;I guess as for myself I'll keep its great mance;&lt;br /&gt;For when all's lost I'll hear the distant call,&lt;br /&gt;If it then for me very much is late,&lt;br /&gt;I will have succoured entrance second chance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359094748246028?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359094748246028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359094748246028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359094748246028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359094748246028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-31-river-runs.html' title='Sonnet 31, The River Runs'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359072041539459</id><published>2005-12-02T22:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:18:40.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 30, The Moments are Coming</title><content type='html'>The moments are coming with spring again,&lt;br /&gt;Sweet are the days - when seedlings do appear&lt;br /&gt;Dearer more than words that I can write here:&lt;br /&gt;Flowers from the sleep that in earth have been;&lt;br /&gt;Broken chain of darkness - light now begin&lt;br /&gt;Give the shadows shades, death its lonesome fear,&lt;br /&gt;All the colors fresh that beauty now can share:&lt;br /&gt;Winter slowly vanish into the foehn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is like new spring when it starts to grow,&lt;br /&gt;Holding my heart's key with fragrance in the air&lt;br /&gt;And a bouquet of new roses in a vase; &lt;br /&gt;First there are its footsteps in the grey snow,&lt;br /&gt;Then there is a booming of growth everywhere:&lt;br /&gt;All of weary darkness away abrase.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359072041539459?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359072041539459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359072041539459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359072041539459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359072041539459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-30-moments-are-coming.html' title='Sonnet 30, The Moments are Coming'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113359054961262407</id><published>2005-12-02T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:15:49.620-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 29, The Moments and Hours</title><content type='html'>The moments and hours are coming more clear&lt;br /&gt;From darkening thoughts and spirits of grief,&lt;br /&gt;Words been said - pass on like aperitif&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes an advise away will steer;&lt;br /&gt;We are to our believes all to adhere&lt;br /&gt;Judge all history - what comes in a brief,&lt;br /&gt;For that's man conviction to trust and belief&lt;br /&gt;What stands to his breast most dearest and near.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a dim winter where one goes forth&lt;br /&gt;Scatter around the dahlias and roses,&lt;br /&gt;While the whimpered warning whistle cried;&lt;br /&gt;Darkness's now dripping to earth bleeding swarth&lt;br /&gt;Further into the denial closes,&lt;br /&gt;The one suffering - who vanished and died.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113359054961262407?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113359054961262407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113359054961262407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359054961262407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113359054961262407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/12/sonnet-29-moments-and-hours.html' title='Sonnet 29, The Moments and Hours'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327731155950405</id><published>2005-11-29T07:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T07:15:11.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 28, The Melody Lingers On</title><content type='html'>The melody of the song that lingers on&lt;br /&gt;To faraway places that were born once,&lt;br /&gt;When the time and the places gave us bunce&lt;br /&gt;For each day is like contest or argon;&lt;br /&gt;There is magnetic force from the tones drawn&lt;br /&gt;That can linger on for days and for months,&lt;br /&gt;Both of which are in harmony and uns&lt;br /&gt;In what is to come and what has forgone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a tune's sweet and tender to new ways&lt;br /&gt;It can bring recollections that were lost,&lt;br /&gt;And it may shed a new light to the past;&lt;br /&gt;There are moments in the forthcoming days&lt;br /&gt;That become like the sand corns or the dust,&lt;br /&gt;If we do not let their memories last.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327731155950405?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327731155950405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327731155950405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327731155950405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327731155950405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-28-melody-lingers-on.html' title='Sonnet 28, The Melody Lingers On'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327715889148471</id><published>2005-11-29T07:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T07:12:38.893-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 27, The Inland Woods</title><content type='html'>The inland woods where men sometimes dwell&lt;br /&gt;To be the first to see the hanging leaves fall,&lt;br /&gt;For it's his season and therefore his call&lt;br /&gt;To know what inner force to him compel;&lt;br /&gt;For all he knows is in his initial well&lt;br /&gt;And from its beginning must pully-haul,&lt;br /&gt;Be in perspective there above it all&lt;br /&gt;For later on - clear thoughts fade and dispel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quickly before sweet hours are all away,&lt;br /&gt;Night descends over beauty like a woe&lt;br /&gt;And all of the earth songs becomes lost again;&lt;br /&gt;Side by side the minutes will betray&lt;br /&gt;For the breeze in the woods must drift and blow,&lt;br /&gt;Let us pray for life that's living - amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327715889148471?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327715889148471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327715889148471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327715889148471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327715889148471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-27-inland-woods.html' title='Sonnet 27, The Inland Woods'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327702179490461</id><published>2005-11-29T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T07:10:21.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 26, The Ebbing Wave</title><content type='html'>The ebbing wave of man's love's like a well&lt;br /&gt;Or marvel of feelings that inside him grows,&lt;br /&gt;It's like wind outside the window which blows&lt;br /&gt;What lies inside a heart you can't foretell;&lt;br /&gt;For love is a way unbound or in spell&lt;br /&gt;Touches and moods and in eyes then glows,&lt;br /&gt;Never complete of what one surely knows&lt;br /&gt;Ebb and the flow of his sensory cell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where's this hope which in a heart beats and flies?&lt;br /&gt;Will it be like a wingless songbird that sings&lt;br /&gt;In a cage forever not being free;&lt;br /&gt;All like a dream which then wakes up and dies&lt;br /&gt;To reality that this world only brings,&lt;br /&gt;What those feelings are inside you and me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327702179490461?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327702179490461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327702179490461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327702179490461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327702179490461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-26-ebbing-wave.html' title='Sonnet 26, The Ebbing Wave'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327678002978554</id><published>2005-11-29T07:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T07:08:41.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 25, The Dusky Sea</title><content type='html'>The dusky sea that lives to be master&lt;br /&gt;Targets ahead in to the new future,&lt;br /&gt;Morrows fate with roaring alastor&lt;br /&gt;And spoon filling hours in transferred suture;&lt;br /&gt;Symphonic song that sway on the ocean&lt;br /&gt;Scurry and pan with the unknown of deep,&lt;br /&gt;Contrast in ways distress through commotion&lt;br /&gt;What lies there hidden and still is asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonders of thought that comes to consign&lt;br /&gt;Imminent about nut in a new hull,&lt;br /&gt;Dancing in waves to each other align;&lt;br /&gt;The world of the profound raging to lull,&lt;br /&gt;What is a future without any name?&lt;br /&gt;Days to be found with hours ahead to tame.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327678002978554?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327678002978554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327678002978554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327678002978554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327678002978554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-25-dusky-sea.html' title='Sonnet 25, The Dusky Sea'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327657338245269</id><published>2005-11-29T07:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T07:02:53.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 24, Sweet Sounds</title><content type='html'>Sweet sounds they sing to the world forever&lt;br /&gt;As day becomes a night within an hour,&lt;br /&gt;Or sunshine fills with clouds and rain shower&lt;br /&gt;Tranquil blossom will grow and endeavor;&lt;br /&gt;Become preserved in memories or never&lt;br /&gt;Finely woven golden ray bower,&lt;br /&gt;With emotions to enchant or empower&lt;br /&gt;Pure to the highest - clear to the clever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh fairy-tale reject me not in esprit mood&lt;br /&gt;My raving moment the best I can give,&lt;br /&gt;Your limbs in the air like voice of honey;&lt;br /&gt;I find no moment pale nor proud or rude,&lt;br /&gt;For all your singing is for me to live&lt;br /&gt;And further out to the darkness I'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327657338245269?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327657338245269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327657338245269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327657338245269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327657338245269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-24-sweet-sounds.html' title='Sonnet 24, Sweet Sounds'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327629551658027</id><published>2005-11-29T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T06:58:15.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 23, The Edge of Time</title><content type='html'>The edge of time that washed ashore&lt;br /&gt;All the pitiful things that the world bought near,&lt;br /&gt;Those withering feelings that gave afear&lt;br /&gt;And to assured affair like rust will abhor;&lt;br /&gt;There is no thing like this or that before&lt;br /&gt;Or what has happened in this of past year,&lt;br /&gt;For memories are like a running tear&lt;br /&gt;That dries away and is therefrom no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We must come to terms with dark that watches&lt;br /&gt;The tears flowing from the sorrow faces,&lt;br /&gt;When things are done that drag a soul more down;&lt;br /&gt;When a night of foes the body touches&lt;br /&gt;And a glinting war to the suffer gazes,&lt;br /&gt;When peace has come and made the unrest lown.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327629551658027?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327629551658027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327629551658027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327629551658027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327629551658027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-23-edge-of-time.html' title='Sonnet 23, The Edge of Time'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327591741824895</id><published>2005-11-29T06:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T06:51:57.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 22, The Day's Now Turning</title><content type='html'>The day's now turning to flickering dark&lt;br /&gt;To wings of light that go from window to room,&lt;br /&gt;Like the leaves of darkish unknown dream bloom&lt;br /&gt;That into the twilight again will spark;&lt;br /&gt;When sunshine sleeps in the red light of arc&lt;br /&gt;And drowsy dream thoughts to the chamber come,&lt;br /&gt;With shadows of deep dim that dance in gloom&lt;br /&gt;And leaves behind thoughts that are full of cark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bemuse flowers where distortion's on,&lt;br /&gt;The kingdom of dusk with radiant glare&lt;br /&gt;Beneath a mask of an unborn first blush;&lt;br /&gt;The night of wreath clouds and dimension rone,&lt;br /&gt;Where battlefields of somber will abear&lt;br /&gt;Till light arise new in sunrise fire rush.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327591741824895?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327591741824895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327591741824895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327591741824895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327591741824895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-22-days-now-turning.html' title='Sonnet 22, The Day&apos;s Now Turning'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327577119361189</id><published>2005-11-29T06:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T06:49:31.193-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 21, The Bluish Flower</title><content type='html'>The bluish flower of the heavens sky&lt;br /&gt;Where raindrops fall from eyelids to the yirth,&lt;br /&gt;And mortal men give to all mortal birth&lt;br /&gt;And each of them will later surly die;&lt;br /&gt;For life is here to grow and then say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;All what is done is like the wind in worth,&lt;br /&gt;It awakes in clouds far from home and mirth&lt;br /&gt;Like stars in night that can not speak but cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is this so when honey from flowers drips&lt;br /&gt;And gold and diamonds you can surly find,&lt;br /&gt;And be of all your success very proud;&lt;br /&gt;Still there now death you will kiss with you lips&lt;br /&gt;And walk the street of life so very blind,&lt;br /&gt;And shout where you don't need to be aloud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327577119361189?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327577119361189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327577119361189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327577119361189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327577119361189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-21-bluish-flower.html' title='Sonnet 21, The Bluish Flower'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327558530397719</id><published>2005-11-29T06:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T06:46:25.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 20, Life is Pains and Again Pains</title><content type='html'>Life is pains and again pains to be borne&lt;br /&gt;With every love that has some hope to gain,&lt;br /&gt;Though we come across days when there is pain&lt;br /&gt;For there is something in us all to adorne;&lt;br /&gt;On ahead roads that seem hopeless and worn&lt;br /&gt;Especially those where passion is alane,&lt;br /&gt;We seek for compassion all in a vain&lt;br /&gt;For the world has forgotten and forlorn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gazing at the days that are in front of me&lt;br /&gt;Armored with the hopes that blossoms with care,&lt;br /&gt;I will find the way for much is to know;&lt;br /&gt;All desperate cry again must come free&lt;br /&gt;Though hard are moments to speak of or bear,&lt;br /&gt;For vineyards of love in heart roots must grow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327558530397719?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327558530397719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327558530397719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327558530397719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327558530397719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-20-life-is-pains-and-again.html' title='Sonnet 20, Life is Pains and Again Pains'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327531194041101</id><published>2005-11-29T06:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T06:41:51.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 19, Let There Be Another Day</title><content type='html'>Let there be another day after moonlight&lt;br /&gt;For the sun must come and shine in beauty,&lt;br /&gt;And give of inspiration and of broody&lt;br /&gt;To carry behind all of yesterday's blight;&lt;br /&gt;That had come into this world with a fright&lt;br /&gt;For it is to our feelings and of duty,&lt;br /&gt;To wash out the thoughtless and the moody&lt;br /&gt;That all of hatred to the heart bedight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each tongue endurance concept outweighs pride&lt;br /&gt;That is in absence of all moral pain,&lt;br /&gt;To disesteem ours to drowsy shadows;&lt;br /&gt;For each of them will come and be beside&lt;br /&gt;What torture is in darkness and amain,&lt;br /&gt;Like nothing of the green there ever grows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327531194041101?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327531194041101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327531194041101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327531194041101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327531194041101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-19-let-there-be-another-day.html' title='Sonnet 19, Let There Be Another Day'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327511705836078</id><published>2005-11-29T06:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T06:38:37.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 18, Some Gave Hearts Freedom</title><content type='html'>Some gave hearts freedom to every agnel&lt;br /&gt;That stood test of time's celebrated hour,&lt;br /&gt;Like those that were in ebony tower&lt;br /&gt;And did not know what future could foretell;&lt;br /&gt;For like a flower that in decline does smell&lt;br /&gt;And berry fruits in higher trees are sour,&lt;br /&gt;Or everything that dismiss or empower&lt;br /&gt;Between what's sour and sticky caramel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revival may find not worthy debate&lt;br /&gt;To ask such questions what all things come of,&lt;br /&gt;For everything is either right or wrong;&lt;br /&gt;Time will tell you this: art is but an ait,&lt;br /&gt;The cloth that the tomorrow will doff,&lt;br /&gt;For new things from the old will come along.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327511705836078?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327511705836078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327511705836078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327511705836078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327511705836078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-18-some-gave-hearts-freedom.html' title='Sonnet 18, Some Gave Hearts Freedom'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327420813658586</id><published>2005-11-29T06:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T06:23:28.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 17, Oh Yes It's So True</title><content type='html'>Oh yes it's so true - all the world's a wish&lt;br /&gt;That upon a star did shine for a while,&lt;br /&gt;The perfect in ways and truthful in smile&lt;br /&gt;All just some glory and hope for all this;&lt;br /&gt;The jewel in the crown of enchanting bliss&lt;br /&gt;Rightly or wrong where love grows to resile, &lt;br /&gt;Nothing there in the heart to honor defile&lt;br /&gt;Deep as roots that lie hidden in abyss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes morning come to me and give me wings&lt;br /&gt;To pass on to the world where Pegasus flies,&lt;br /&gt;On the horizon of all the unborn dreams;&lt;br /&gt;That from now on and in to future sings&lt;br /&gt;So struggles of our past never abyes,&lt;br /&gt;Where every effort - like a joy only seems.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327420813658586?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327420813658586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327420813658586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327420813658586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327420813658586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-17-oh-yes-its-so-true.html' title='Sonnet 17, Oh Yes It&apos;s So True'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327391012414040</id><published>2005-11-29T06:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T06:18:30.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 16, Oh What a Beautiful Flaming Morning</title><content type='html'>Oh what a beautiful flaming morning,&lt;br /&gt;Red as the rose that in summer is born&lt;br /&gt;And to every shadow its light is drawn,&lt;br /&gt;Glitters the sky without any warning;&lt;br /&gt;Radiance fire on the window will bring,&lt;br /&gt;Grateful is my heart for all this adorn&lt;br /&gt;When up wakes again in flames the dark dawn,&lt;br /&gt;In peace it comes to play - in fiery sing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hush little waves on the wilderness lake&lt;br /&gt;The forest's coming to life now for sure,&lt;br /&gt;Springtime is ridding in with new colors;&lt;br /&gt;Seeds in the soil now's your time to wake,&lt;br /&gt;'Grow up to bloom be in fragrance once more'&lt;br /&gt;Little frozen brook now gladly hollers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327391012414040?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327391012414040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327391012414040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327391012414040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327391012414040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-16-oh-what-beautiful-flaming.html' title='Sonnet 16, Oh What a Beautiful Flaming Morning'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113327373437265861</id><published>2005-11-29T06:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T06:15:34.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 15, Naively Forward</title><content type='html'>Naively forward like the innocent wind&lt;br /&gt;Shifting through clouds that are moving along,&lt;br /&gt;To an unborn thought that comes in a song&lt;br /&gt;Later when it is alive and designed;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the heart and it's content can find&lt;br /&gt;What makes each breathing come weak on or strong,&lt;br /&gt;When hours aren't ticking and moments prolong&lt;br /&gt;And sky in evening colors - is up pinned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fancies that switches to patches to be&lt;br /&gt;Climbing the faltering steps to the sprawl,&lt;br /&gt;When the fingers of sky - eyes again please;&lt;br /&gt;Dreaming awake when dawn alternates free&lt;br /&gt;And the hour raises shadows on the wall,&lt;br /&gt;From the outside flower garden and trees.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113327373437265861?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113327373437265861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113327373437265861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327373437265861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113327373437265861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-15-naively-forward.html' title='Sonnet 15, Naively Forward'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113323485293283650</id><published>2005-11-28T19:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:27:32.933-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 14, Let The Good Earth</title><content type='html'>Let the good earth give you rightful courage&lt;br /&gt;From inside and out with it all about,&lt;br /&gt;With what you were given to stir in astir&lt;br /&gt;Inspired and made to be complete devout;&lt;br /&gt;Like the on thing what is so much trust worth&lt;br /&gt;In what you felt all like before it and then,&lt;br /&gt;When your accomplishments goes forth like a firth&lt;br /&gt;In what you know and therefore if you can.&lt;br /&gt;The way to begin is simple yet so true&lt;br /&gt;You don't need to turn the page tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;For all what it implies is in the sky blue;&lt;br /&gt;Yes all of earth's wisdom is my agra,&lt;br /&gt;Take just what you will need and nothing more&lt;br /&gt;For life's nothing but a hidden astore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113323485293283650?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113323485293283650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113323485293283650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113323485293283650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113323485293283650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-14-let-good-earth.html' title='Sonnet 14, Let The Good Earth'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113323476596737059</id><published>2005-11-28T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:26:05.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 13, Is There a Love Song</title><content type='html'>Is there a love song once more in your heart,&lt;br /&gt;Pleasures new giving that slept all before;&lt;br /&gt;Where is this leading where will it start,&lt;br /&gt;Shall you be fulfilled with even some more.&lt;br /&gt;Can there be peaceful evenings to go to,&lt;br /&gt;After a crude war has been once started;&lt;br /&gt;Will a lonesome love song ever be true,&lt;br /&gt;If respect to your neighbour is all departed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can wish for some more maybe you think, &lt;br /&gt;That's not giving faithful peace to this earth,&lt;br /&gt;Compromising with fate other ties gives;&lt;br /&gt;Alone in the end like an eye that you blink,&lt;br /&gt;Making each your time not its living worth,&lt;br /&gt;Not reassure to what continues and lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113323476596737059?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113323476596737059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113323476596737059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113323476596737059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113323476596737059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-13-is-there-love-song.html' title='Sonnet 13, Is There a Love Song'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113322442549335606</id><published>2005-11-28T16:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:10:00.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 12, Into Oblivion</title><content type='html'>The hour is leaving into oblivion:&lt;br /&gt;With everything old turning to dust&lt;br /&gt;For what can man keep moth and ruptured rust?&lt;br /&gt;Or what for a while - was here just agone;&lt;br /&gt;And through the years with peaceful wings atone&lt;br /&gt;Which in life were tried out - completed to adjust,&lt;br /&gt;Thus from earth to sky flown away, almost:&lt;br /&gt;To drift in dreams that came from thoughts alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man wings shall fly where his musings shall go,&lt;br /&gt;Like depth of the sky will open to few&lt;br /&gt;And knowing the river that runs to the sea;&lt;br /&gt;The updraft will just turn as it must blow&lt;br /&gt;And some may not see the morning's fresh dew,&lt;br /&gt;For what is more beautiful than the true free?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113322442549335606?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113322442549335606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113322442549335606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322442549335606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322442549335606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-12-into-oblivion.html' title='Sonnet 12, Into Oblivion'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113322419079457009</id><published>2005-11-28T16:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:09:47.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 11, I woke Up from Night</title><content type='html'>I woke up from night that drifted away&lt;br /&gt;With the sky morn in new colors to be,&lt;br /&gt;My eyes were half waken - opening to see&lt;br /&gt;How in came new dawn and arouse the day;&lt;br /&gt;Like hope on its flight not dark of agley&lt;br /&gt;Indeed it must rise and live for awee,&lt;br /&gt;And flow with its flaming over to me&lt;br /&gt;For songs of the dim won't forever stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like sorrow and pain and gladness I've found,&lt;br /&gt;All moods of the hours will give me a sign&lt;br /&gt;Where my singing in the morning will come;&lt;br /&gt;All the earth awakes and comes then around&lt;br /&gt;To what's its goal and where it will aline,&lt;br /&gt;We trust in these feelings fore they go numb.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113322419079457009?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113322419079457009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113322419079457009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322419079457009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322419079457009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-i-woke-up-from-night.html' title='Sonnet 11, I woke Up from Night'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113322345411165967</id><published>2005-11-28T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:09:30.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 10, How Strange's This Feeling</title><content type='html'>How strange's this feeling so full of a fright:&lt;br /&gt;When hours are deeper and darker more still,&lt;br /&gt;When there is no room for the heavenly light&lt;br /&gt;And nothing of love shall prosper at will;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up so early but then dimmed the sky&lt;br /&gt;And onto my shoulders the darkness was shown,&lt;br /&gt;I thought I'd fall down and last breath out fly&lt;br /&gt;And into hollow dim fall like a stone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The words are like leaves that are wased away&lt;br /&gt;When after summer autumn comes with rain,&lt;br /&gt;Before the frost lays the lake with a freeze;&lt;br /&gt;Sun I had one summer and then for a day:&lt;br /&gt;All beauty be measured simple and plain,&lt;br /&gt;Though some have its clothings in fine cointise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113322345411165967?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113322345411165967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113322345411165967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322345411165967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322345411165967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-10-how-stranges-this-feeling.html' title='Sonnet 10, How Strange&apos;s This Feeling'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113322320452817646</id><published>2005-11-28T16:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:09:11.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 9, Love's All in The After Hours</title><content type='html'>Love's all in the after hours I asume&lt;br /&gt;Like beautiful inspiring mood from inside,&lt;br /&gt;The milder descending ingrowing bloom&lt;br /&gt;That within the roots of the heart will hide;&lt;br /&gt;Unburdened with any ascending hope&lt;br /&gt;Striped down to faintly roots there grown,&lt;br /&gt;The mountain that peaks and handles the rope:&lt;br /&gt;Gives me courage - show me I am not alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I confess, my heart is beating fairly proud&lt;br /&gt;Permitting no weeping from love away,&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes seeing no paths in front of me;&lt;br /&gt;Like everything has its existence and doubt,&lt;br /&gt;For all what will come - disappear or stay,&lt;br /&gt;I know what I feel isn't all what I see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113322320452817646?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113322320452817646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113322320452817646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322320452817646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322320452817646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-9-loves-all-in-after-hours.html' title='Sonnet 9, Love&apos;s All in The After Hours'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113322298143659042</id><published>2005-11-28T16:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:08:55.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 8, Give Me a Hope of Love</title><content type='html'>Give me a hope of love if my heart breaks&lt;br /&gt;Whatever is here waiting I wonder,&lt;br /&gt;In all my thoughts drift away and ponder&lt;br /&gt;As the mind again to reality awakes;&lt;br /&gt;From the alone fantasy the heart takes&lt;br /&gt;What is rejoined and what is asunder,&lt;br /&gt;When there is flame in what is there under&lt;br /&gt;Returning to soft from feelings of rakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is the end now coming to times right here&lt;br /&gt;When there is burning desire to play with,&lt;br /&gt;Has there been lost words from across caring?&lt;br /&gt;What can we say if all goes to nowhere&lt;br /&gt;And love in my heart is all like a myth,&lt;br /&gt;That got me going crazy with awing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113322298143659042?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113322298143659042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113322298143659042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322298143659042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322298143659042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-8-give-me-hope-of-love.html' title='Sonnet 8, Give Me a Hope of Love'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113322285299973759</id><published>2005-11-28T16:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:08:39.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 7, From the Ocean Deep</title><content type='html'>The daylight is young from the ocean deep&lt;br /&gt;Where earth things come alive in the sunrise,&lt;br /&gt;When the blue from yonder opens and sigh&lt;br /&gt;Awakes to life from a wait and asleep;&lt;br /&gt;The hours from dark from the colors instep&lt;br /&gt;Closer earth songs will be heard in the skies,&lt;br /&gt;When the pretty lives young open its eyes&lt;br /&gt;Music from the wild once again will sweep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To ears with beauty like never before&lt;br /&gt;The moments so friendly and far underneath,&lt;br /&gt;Lifted and shattered by the breathing gust;&lt;br /&gt;That brought the ocean tide onto the shore,&lt;br /&gt;That comes from the deep dark in the ET&lt;br /&gt;When the waves comes inert in the high boost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113322285299973759?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113322285299973759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113322285299973759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322285299973759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322285299973759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-7-from-ocean-deep.html' title='Sonnet 7, From the Ocean Deep'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113322263336263823</id><published>2005-11-28T16:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:05:25.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 6, For a White Rose</title><content type='html'>Enchanting like evening for a white rose&lt;br /&gt;When the darkly days be in the twilight,&lt;br /&gt;Of the first hours of dawn that comes too bright&lt;br /&gt;When face of dark becomes a light that grows;&lt;br /&gt;And all that gave unknown dark power goes&lt;br /&gt;The first of day's fire in new morning flight,&lt;br /&gt;From sky in deep blue horizon its first of sight&lt;br /&gt;When the stage becomes flowing spark that glows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are like weak straws in the fields of day&lt;br /&gt;With all our wishes - for some are to die,&lt;br /&gt;Lose into the dark be unborn again;&lt;br /&gt;Like day meets the dark in sunlighting ray&lt;br /&gt;Dawn anew is born in the darkblue sky,&lt;br /&gt;All life is thus two - meet death to begin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113322263336263823?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113322263336263823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113322263336263823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322263336263823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322263336263823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-6-for-white-rose.html' title='Sonnet 6, For a White Rose'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113322242884503846</id><published>2005-11-28T15:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:04:57.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 5, Darkness Oh Sweet Fountain</title><content type='html'>Darkness oh sweet fountain before this spring&lt;br /&gt;The night that washes ashore new delight,&lt;br /&gt;Hours in winter that still have more to sing&lt;br /&gt;In step by step lightless until all is bright;&lt;br /&gt;The unlock of tide's edge that depth will show&lt;br /&gt;Alone and between me and the darkness,&lt;br /&gt;The morning that comes with first of dawn's glow&lt;br /&gt;From oceans between - always new and fresh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mornings to come - the new fragrance fire&lt;br /&gt;With freshness in air through late evenings,&lt;br /&gt;The graceful summer we all must adore&lt;br /&gt;When our hearts fill up with love and desire.&lt;br /&gt;Body and soul together again sings:&lt;br /&gt;How deep we're drowned by wishing for more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113322242884503846?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113322242884503846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113322242884503846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322242884503846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322242884503846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-5-darkness-oh-sweet-fountain.html' title='Sonnet 5, Darkness Oh Sweet Fountain'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113322226445253199</id><published>2005-11-28T15:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:04:38.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 4</title><content type='html'>Bring me a spark from the timeless deep sea:&lt;br /&gt;All hours gone which to existence were brought,&lt;br /&gt;There is a way like an on growing tree&lt;br /&gt;Which is man's knowledge each and every thought;&lt;br /&gt;Years of darkness days in the new light&lt;br /&gt;All the fault believes that were never true,&lt;br /&gt;Giving examples of what is wrong or right&lt;br /&gt;Known by the silence or only the few.&lt;br /&gt;Into the blue the morning still rises&lt;br /&gt;Meeting in corners from here to and there,&lt;br /&gt;Each of the ways born to further surprises&lt;br /&gt;What will the outcome be another year?&lt;br /&gt;Spirals not born to contrive yet in vain,&lt;br /&gt;Broaden perception - who's never alane.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113322226445253199?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113322226445253199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113322226445253199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322226445253199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322226445253199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-4.html' title='Sonnet 4'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113322131539279606</id><published>2005-11-28T15:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:04:13.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 3, Before This Day</title><content type='html'>Before this day from sight again's all gone&lt;br /&gt;And reality beyond thy dreams have flown,&lt;br /&gt;Into the world you have there for your own&lt;br /&gt;When evening colors to the sky atone;&lt;br /&gt;Where all the ways are in new virtue born&lt;br /&gt;Like all the hearts and feelings can depone,&lt;br /&gt;When dispute ways are from this instant thrown&lt;br /&gt;And love is rising with the infant morn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The silent thought of this night I don't fear&lt;br /&gt;For feathers beyond twilight will be flown,&lt;br /&gt;Thy heart will speak truthful when its behind;&lt;br /&gt;For all of summer sunshine does appear&lt;br /&gt;When fully peaceful seeds are up all grown,&lt;br /&gt;And we too peaceful moments there shall find.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113322131539279606?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113322131539279606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113322131539279606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322131539279606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322131539279606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-3-before-this-day.html' title='Sonnet 3, Before This Day'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113322120452540752</id><published>2005-11-28T15:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:03:40.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 2, Asleep is Dark Earth</title><content type='html'>Asleep is dark earth before coming spring&lt;br /&gt;Under a helmet of a white frosty song,&lt;br /&gt;The brow of waking is still quite long&lt;br /&gt;Before forest birds again will here sing;&lt;br /&gt;Songs to summer and colors forward bring&lt;br /&gt;To a night which has thread through the drong,&lt;br /&gt;For now into light the day's coming strong&lt;br /&gt;From under its blue collar winter's wing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah sleepy thoughts and hanging northern stars:&lt;br /&gt;All wonderful into their memory's flight,&lt;br /&gt;Of yesterdays gone once more to the mist;&lt;br /&gt;Not showing off their ridden lifelong scars,&lt;br /&gt;Nor what was once for them of wrong or right&lt;br /&gt;When they too were threading life's turning twist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113322120452540752?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113322120452540752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113322120452540752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322120452540752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322120452540752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-2-asleep-is-dark-earth.html' title='Sonnet 2, Asleep is Dark Earth'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19400367.post-113322041024772432</id><published>2005-11-28T15:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T19:03:16.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonnet 1, All I am Saying</title><content type='html'>All I am saying is give peace a change&lt;br /&gt;For the leaves of life are now growing red,&lt;br /&gt;Onto the morning of the winter's dead&lt;br /&gt;And laughing faces to sorrow derange;&lt;br /&gt;In earth deceases which are now full of mange&lt;br /&gt;And broken hopes in the once blooming bed,&lt;br /&gt;That were in front of longings death bested&lt;br /&gt;And we to each other forcibly brainge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O come to the day - this wintry old night&lt;br /&gt;And give to the ways the morning bright dawn,&lt;br /&gt;That once again must shine on living dearth;&lt;br /&gt;Meadows filled with blossoms in the new light&lt;br /&gt;That once were under wings of a black swan,&lt;br /&gt;For love is inquiring to calling yirth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19400367-113322041024772432?l=the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/feeds/113322041024772432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19400367&amp;postID=113322041024772432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322041024772432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19400367/posts/default/113322041024772432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-lost-sonnets.blogspot.com/2005/11/sonnet-1-all-i-am-saying.html' title='Sonnet 1, All I am Saying'/><author><name>Peter S. Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16150727967735944314</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://www.peter-s-quinn.com/peter.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
