On Friday April Seven Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion
On Friday April Seven
Rating: ★5.0
C-oal clouds in the sky
H-ave all become white;
E-arly morn has broken, leaving the dark of night.
E-vening shadows disappear,
C-old chill fades away;
L-et the warmth of sunlight
A-im to bathe the day.
R-ugged wind of the storm
I-sn't found neath the heaven;
N-ew dawn denies the dusk,
O-n Friday April seven.
Saturday, April 8, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: birthday
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5/7/2024 12:43:46 PM # 1.0.0.1119
R-ugged wind of the storm I-sn't found neath the heaven; N-ew dawn denies the dusk, O-n Friday April seven. Excellently executed, dear Bernard....10+++++