The rainbow

a poem by Westly Alexander Shaw, USA

I seen a rainbow today, as it played peek-a- boo
with a gray cotton cloud.
It had red, green, blue, yellow, purple, and even
black.
The world was in a mess, and yet God took the
time to send us a message of hope.
Only He could take a mess and turn it into a miracle.


This rainbow either started or ended in my backyard.
Which one it is, your guess is as good as mine.
I started to climb and it was as slippery as ice on a
cold winter day.
The air was moist, and wet my dry lips.
The rainbow itself was as smooth as paper, and as
beautiful as an artist painting.
It was like climbing Mt. Whitney, as the higher I went
the less air I received, until my ears popped, as if a
balloon.


Sliding on a rainbow is nothing like flying your kite.
I was going down, not up, and sliding down a
bridge of colors.
Unlike a kite, I did not make the rainbow, God did.
It was not made of paper, but water droplet's.
Laughter was heard as I slid down, faster then a
roller coaster, to the unknown.


I followed my rainbow, I followed my dream.
Life is never easy, but if you give up your
really not living.
Faith is my guide, and adventure the game.
I just fell into your tree, now, stop reading,
and get me down from here!

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