Rainbow
It struts peacock-like when the rains have gone,
but visible from only the one side,
to folk who from behind sun shines upon,
those facing its bright rays will be denied.
Get closer, as the superstitious do,
and hopes arise with each step they draw near,
in vain seeking treasure, although they knew
the closer they get, it would disappear.
From far off we must seem the happy pair,
our faithfulness tied bow-like round the years,
but close up lie the strains, the wear and tear,
frustrated arguments that no-one hears.
Our hearts not washed in seven coloured stain
rainbow faded, long showers still remain.
For contest 'Rainbows', sponsor Craig Cornish
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