Sound Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion
Sound
A-n early morn twenty-ninth January
L-ets the dark depart;
N-ew dawn Sunday warms
Y-our soul and your heart.
T-wilight and lonely dusk
A-re nowhere to be found;
N-ice music is played, neither ear ignores the sound.
Sunday, January 29, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: birthday
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5/3/2024 11:33:06 PM # 1.0.0.1119
