Holding You Tight
E-arly twenty-seventh February
U-ses the Monday beacon;
N-ight cold chilling wind
I-s brought to oblivion.
C-oal clouds don't gather, instead they all become white;
E-ventide turns into rising sun, setting everything aright.
S-hadows have disappeared,
U-nderneath the blue sky;
P-ouring rain evaporates,
R-ugged weather passes by.
E-ach haze has vanished,
M-ist is nowhere in sight;
O-ne morning looks lovely, beauty is holding you tight.
Copyright © Bernard F. Asuncion | Year Posted 2017
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