[NicknamedBob]

Another rainbow poem, soon I'll have one for every day of the week. Hmm, maybe this one will do...


For You

When the noonday sun melts shadows to a puddle at your feet,
Even raindrops in the air won’t put a rainbow on your street.
For rainbows are like breezes, springing up at end of day,
Or sometimes morning rain turns up in colorful array.

But at zenith sunshine burns, but does not bend too well,
And only slanting sunlight can be taught to cast this spell.
If you must have a rainbow, out in the noonday sun,
Go out and hose the garden down, and have a little fun.

You will be circled round about, your rainbow at your feet,
And you can see the circle closed, the bows are made to meet.
And thus the gold you hope to find is central to the bow,
The rainbow is for you, you see, the audience for its show.

NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . August 15, 2004

[Soaring Feather]

Hello Bob. Such a lovely poem, it sings so well. Thank You so much.