See The Birds That Play Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion
See The Birds That Play
M-ake twenty-eighth December
A-ble to come out and shine;
R-ed beacon early Wednesday
I-s rising above the line.
K-iss the cold chill goodbye,
R-ain is nowhere in sight;
I-nclement clime turns fine,
S-un has turned on the light.
T-uesday's shadows are gone,
I-t's a beautiful birthday;
N-ever ignore the flowers, see the birds that play.
Monday, January 2, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: birthday
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5/6/2024 6:36:01 AM # 1.0.0.1119
