the ending of the rainbow

Rainbow Rainbow

High and bright.

You brightened up the grey-black sky.

Eyes did widen and gasps did breath

At coloured high arches across the sky.

Looking past the end is near

I started off with no-no fear.

Dazzling colours bright and safe

 I went to see if legend was true.

Quick-quick-quick

I moved my feet.

Pots of gold and leprechauns too.

The grass is wet it sprays my legs.

Stretch my hand the colours next

Clasped my fingers the air is wet.

The sky goes cold the sun goes in

My feet dig in the colours gone.

The sky is grey

And no leprechaun song.

No pot of gold, no dancing feet.

None of us meant to reach the end

 Of that colourful longed for street.

“ Oh well” say my feet “ Lets go back and get something to eat”. 

Rainbow arch art

Twinkle, twinkle

Little rainbow

Stay up high and bright.

Frame the world with rain and arch

Make it up and into fine art.

Dragon breath

Flap my wings and hold on tight

My eyes ablaze tonight.

Too many nights

Among the stars

Alone and hissed about.

Trying to fill my scaly head

With doubts and thoughts instead.

I beat my wings and flap ‘em high

Look down upon the world.

A hissing pop of “ oh my God”

Can’t figure out their minds.

Hold on tight

Hear their sighs

They think their right,

But “ oh so wrong”

They’ll see my face tonight.

Flap my wings and hold on tight

My nostrils flared, and warm.

Spin it round

And flare it down.

The heats, on them tonight.

Oops Rabbit

Dam it Rabbit

I broke your bowls.

Drop me twice and bash my head.

Grow a tasty treat

Carrot seeds, carrot seeds
grow me something sweet.

I can give my guinea pigs and Rabbits
a nice tasty treat.

It's not a pot of dirt!!

It’s not a pot of dirt that’s growing on my sill.

I froze you in, and in the chill.

You sprouted frozen wings.

So small at first I could not tell

But a shoot began to grow.

Small and green beneath dirt un-seen

I moved you to the sill.

Where weak sunlight warmed your insides

And little leaves did grow.

You suck the sun, and bathe the rain

The four of you did grow.

Much taller now, I check you out

Little forks do show.

You do it slow

But now I know.

In a pot of dirt,

On my sill,

Four mountain pines do grow.

 ( Response to growing mountain pine bonsai trees)