Once I heard a R a i n b o w
A R a i n b o w is his voice
Although I could not see it
There was no other choice

A Rai n b o w of protection
Not a color did it miss
The warm blue of compassion
Was almost like a kiss.
The sweetness of an orange
From his color takes its name
His crimson spirit burning
Like a romantic candle flame
The R a i n b o w voice of yellow
So tender, sweet and kind
The beauty that of violet,
This too now comes to mind
For red and ultra-violet,
The colors you can't see
I heard them not but felt them
Their warmth now grows in me

Refreshing green of winter
Its crisp and yet so sweet
Just like the R a i n b o w voice I hear
Its spectrum now complete
Though his voice I can no longer hear
Please know that I rejoice
For once I heard a R a i n b o w
A R a i n b o w in his voice.

Poetry
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