Rainbows
Lying cross legged on a sun dewed cloud she slightly ruffles her wings
On the tip of a rainbow colours so vivid opening her eyes as she sings
The wind machine blows through her feathers of gold she shows not a care in the world
Lifting her brow she gazes around to see an earth all twisted and curled
A cloud floating by in the blink of an eye reminds her of what’s to be done
She stands straight and tall in the midst of it all pulls out from her feathers a gun
She blows away all that’s bad demented and sad then turns back to glare at the sun
Away on her journey she lifts off once more like a puppet hanging from strings
With a smile on her beak and her tongue in her cheek she says,
“Rainbows are wonderful thingsâ€
