Find The Luck's Stroke Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

M-ake Monday morning
A-ble to greet the dawn;
D-eny the Sunday night,
E-vening shadows are gone.
L-et twenty-sixth December
M-eet another new day;
A-iming to warm your birth,
R-ising sun brightens the gray.

C-old chill and pouring rain
A-re nowhere to be found;
B-ecause of the fine weather,
A-ll you hear is the sweetest sound.
N-o more mist in the air,
A-s well as the smoke;
D-ont let the haze remain,
A-s you find the luck's stroke.