That hung heavy and dark up above.
Their droplets gushed through the abandon,
And formed a thin blue ribbon.
A golden beam peeped through the grey,
And made it’s way.
At once the beam and droplet met,
No one ever knew what happened next.
But in their détente*
Sprang out an arch,
That spread over the sky,
With seven magnificent colors
That met everyone’s eye.
But when the rain gave up
And the sun shone
All the colorful tones
Vanished in a trice.
* détente: [day-tahnt] – An easing of tension between two nations.