As The Plane Soars High Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion
As The Plane Soars High
E-arly Friday comes out,
D-ecember thirtieth day;
W-hite clouds up above
A-re replacing the gray.
R-ise of the sun begins, after the Thursday twilight;
D-awn has just broken, leaving the dark of night.
D-ust in the open air
I-s nowhere to be found;
M-ist, haze, and fog
A-re buried in the ground.
I-t's a wonderful birthday, beneath the blue sky;
N-ew morn meets the breeze, as the plane soars high.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/19/2024 10:08:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
