W-eather Tuesday morning
I-s either warm or fine;
L-et the beacon begin
L-ighting up the skyline.
E-vening shadows disappear,
T-wilight is already gone;
H-aze, mist, and fog are not found by dawn.
C-oal clouds and rain
A-re both nowhere in view;
S-eventh morn of March
I-s brightening the blue.
M-isty Monday night
I-s passing from your eyes;
R-ays from up above
O-bliterate the dark lies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
M-isty Monday night I-s passing from your eyes; R-ays from up above O-bliterate the dark lies. Magnificent acrostic, dear Bernard....10+++++