The Receptionist Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion
The Receptionist
N-ight cold Sunday has turned
I-nto warm sunny Monday;
K-iss the fog farewell,
A-s the haze fades away.
T-hirteenth February morn
A-ims to thrill your heart;
N-ew dawn has broken,
E-ndorsing a brand new start.
D-ivine task to fufill is one thing that she doesn't miss;
O-n duty she works so well, serving God as the receptionist.
Sunday, February 12, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: birthday
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4/25/2024 2:51:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
