Rainbow’s glimmer, black storm’s wake,
I run after, but too late;
Facing from view, as I run,
Cannot catch up; I stop, done.
Angry, cursing, catch my breath;
Bitter longing, worse than death.
Creeping along, I, downcast,
Sand in my eye stings at last,
One thing wanted, not supplied,
Evacuated, I deride.
Long time must wait, pine away,
Weather man’s left, holiday.
But wait–behold! What is that?
Band of colors, veil unwrapt;
At last I see, small bit left,
Is it for me, the thought jests?
Distinct inkling, hidden box,
The last bit left, for me, stops.
But just one moment, last linger,
Heard my cry–enough, goodbye!
You must leave now, fabled zinger.