While The Bright Light Is On Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

A-fter the evening chill,
R-aindrops Thursday end;
M-arch thirtieth morn
A-ims to calm the wind.
N-ew dawn has broken,
D-enying the forlorn night;
O-nce the beacon comes, everything is set aright.

M-ist, haze, and fog
A-re all nowhere in view;
N-either warmth nor flame is
A-llowed to say adieu.
L-et the sun start to rise above the new horizon;
O-pen your eyes to zenith, while the bright light is on.