Head On A Pillow Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

C-old chilling raindrops
E-vade February seven;
C-loud gathered by vile clime
I-s turning white under the heaven.
L-et the Monday pass, as the night fades away;
E-vening shadows disappear into the dark, blue, and gray.

Z-enith and Tuesday noon
A-re meeting in the sky;
C-oal haze, fog, and mist
A-re now going by.
R-ay from the red beacon
I-s lighting up the meadow;
A-s you get tired due to work,
S-mile and rest your head on a pillow.