Poetry Weaver

Red, yellow, orange and green,
Arranged in an arch after a summer rain.
In the prettiest formation ever seen.
Nothing as lovely and not the least bit plain.

Beautiful as across the sky it bends,
Offering a pot of gold to he who is clever,
Withstanding tests to get to the end,
So only a leprechaun is up to such an endeavor.

©Cassandra Crews

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