A coloured bridge it paints the sky,
The sun baths dark clouds as they roll by,
The earths sweet freshness fills the air,
Birds lift their voices, with song to share,
A setting sun beckons the night,
As I look on this bow so bright.

I recall a time long, long ago,
There was no rainbow for man to know,
Rain poured down forty days and nights,
All covered by water, no land in sight,
The only thing in this watery grave,
Was an ark that Noah made.

Noah’s family was safe inside,
With a heap of animals along for the ride,
Giraffes, Monkeys and Crocodile’s too,
Were only a part of this great zoo,
Birds of all colours, shapes and size,
Came to the ark, they left the skies.

Just like a cork it tossed and bobbed,
But Noah and his sons had done a good job,
They came to rest after many a day,
On Mount. Ararat or so they say,
Their Noah’s family made an altar,
To praise there God they did not falter.

God looked down from his home above,
And for this man he felt great love,
So in the sky he made a bow,
With seven colours it did flow,
And with it God a promise gave,
To never again make a watery grave.


© Gary Ivin




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