Swing Beneath The Tree Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

R-ise of the sun begins,
O-pening the morn with light;
D-ark shadows disappear,
R-ain fades into the night.
I-t's a wonderful Tuesday,
G-ray clouds don't gather;
O-n thirty-first of January, beacon brings a fine weather.

A-llow the Monday to pass,
B-ecause of the breaking dawn;
R-ay that causes warmth
I-s above the horizon.
G-reat hills and mountains are all amazing to see;
O-pen air shares the breeze as you swing beneath the tree.