How To Fly Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

E-arly eighteenth February
D-enies the Friday night;
U-nderneath the blue sky,
A-ll shadows turn to light.
R-ising sun Saturday
D-elays not to shine;
O-n time he comes up to make you feel fine.

V-ile weather turns calm,
E-vening chill fades away;
R-aindrops have vanished
T-o yield to the warmth of day.
U-se the gentle wind,
C-hild wants to soar high;
I-t's now time to glide,
O-ne girl learns how to fly.