When New Year Comes Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

First day and January start together
from the very last night of cold December;
rightfully planned and designed, not impromptu,
rejuvenating, not yet to say adieu.

Each and every new year makes it quite special,
erasing the past with present's approval;
darkness turns into light so bright and so well,
dawn replaces the dusk at a high level.

Delight comforts like what joy and gladness do,
drying the rain of pain, sorrow, and tears too;
inclement clime never thinks of being bad,
insisting it doesn't want to make hearts sad.

Earth, soft wind, forest, bright beacon, and blue sea
eagerly look upon the sky to make plea.