Fresh Morn Meets The Meadow Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

D-ay twenty-seventh breaks,
A-s February month allows;
R-ain stops from falling;
R-ays slip through the clouds.
E-ventide and dusk fade, the twilight does the same;
N-ight chill comes to a close, giving way for the burning flame.

J-ust let the haze turn
I-nto a clear wide airway;
M-ist has disappeared too,
E-nding its shroud of the day.
N-ew dawn has just broken,
E-arly breeze removes the shadow;
Z-one of darkness is gone, fresh morn meets the meadow.