J-ust fly high to the sky,
U-sing the wings of mirth;
A-fter the day has broken,
N-ew dawn meets your birth.
F-ly high to the sky,
O-n the seventh of February;
N-ight chill has disappeared,
T-o yield to morning glory.
I-n the warmth of the sun,
L-ight ends the devil's lie;
L-et the truth reach the zenith,
A-s you fly high to the
S-ky.
Fly high to the Skies, sun, stars, joy....... very nice poem dear poet. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another excellent acrostic, Bernard❤️❤️❤️