More Hills To Climb Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

R-ise of the sun starts,
E-leventh morn January;
N-ew dawn has broken,
A-s we all know and see.
L-et the Wednesday warm
Y-our soul and your heart;
N-ight cold chill disappears, as the raindrops depart.

B-eautiful beacon begins,
E-rasing the Tuesday darkness;
L-et the rays sweep the fog,
L-et them clean-up the mess.
E-arly light bathes your life,
Z-enith awaits the noontime;
A-fter reaching a mountain top, there are more hills to climb.