Don't Ever Make A Sound Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

L-ight early tenth February
I-s ascending above the line;
A-iming to warm your heart,
N-ew dawn starts to shine.
N-o more mist, haze, and fog found on sunny Friday;
E-vening chill is gone, Thursday shadows fade away.

R-aindrop and cold wind
A-re both passing by;
G-ray clouds don't gather
U-ndeneath the blue sky.
I-t's amazing to behold
N-ew scene that you've found;
E-xpect a baby butterfly, don't ever make a sound.