Neath The Morning Sun Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

S-un in the morning
H-as come up once again;
E-arly Thursday twenty-seventh April,
R-ays begin to ascend.
W-indchill of the night
I-s nowhere to be found;
N-o more mist and haze, rain isn't falling down.

D-awn has just broken, after the lonely twilight;
E-vening shadows fade, warmth sets things aright.

L-et the sadness disappear,
E-xcept the joy and fun;
O-ne zone of mirth remains,
N-eath the morning sun.