Under silver‑washed skies, the city’s asleep,  
But our shadows keep talking in promises they keep.  
Every breath is a secret, a vow without sound,  
Your hand finds my heartbeat, the whole world unwound....  

In The Name of Affection

Neon horizons in the afterglow,  
Wheels hum low where the night winds blow.  
Silver lines stretch into the dawn,  
Every mile a place where the shadows are gone....

Bring Peace

Sunlight drifts through the turning leaves,  
Falling gold on a breath that believes.  
No hands grasp, no voices bind,  
Only the wind, and a listening mind....

Let Love Come the Easy Way

Morning breaks on an open street, Golden light where the dreamers meet. Every step hums a gentle tune, Like flowers swaying under June....

Peace and Freedom

Cold light spilling over harbour waves  
Morning mist curls where the gulls misbehave  
Amber leaves chase the wind through the square  
Something in the air says change is there....  

Fresh Daydreams from the North

Silver hands in the shadowed sky, Turning slow as the stars drift by, Every gear is a breath we take, Every tick is a choice we make....

The Clockwork of Time

I’ve walked through cities made of stone,  
Where silence ruled and hearts were lone,  
I’ve heard the chains beneath the skin,  
And felt the fire that burns within....

Walk the Way of Freedom

The hush of dusk is drawing near, Soft shadows stretch across the year, Leaves whisper secrets to the breeze, And golden light slips through the trees....

Last Weeks of Summer

In the hush between pulses,  
silver gears turn in the dark.  
Your breath is a signal —  
an orbiting spark  
that drifts through my circuits,  
drawing constellations  
in the soft data of night....

The Clockwork of Love

Lights flash the city's alive
Shadows stretch where secrets thrive
A whisper cuts the velvet air
Who's that man he's everywhere....

Mister X

Peter is a member of STEF (The Performing Rights Society of Iceland) and FTT (The Icelandic Society of Authors & Composers).
He has made around or more than 15 thousand music works, 7 thousand poems and 5 thousand landscape paintings...

Fresh Daydreams from the North

Pétur Söebech Quinn

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