There can be seen on sunny days, where rain has been and gone away

A rainbow bright up in the sky, but have you ever wondered why?

Well listen close, and I will tell, of she that makes this magic spell,

The one who paints up in the sky, those colours bright for you and I.

When rain does fall, she’s fast asleep, she doesn’t like the clouds to weep,

And as the rain comes to an end, by the sun she’s a-wake-end.

She grabs her pots and brushes too, she has only some minutes few,

All seven colours does she need, and rainbows must be done with speed.

The red comes first, that much you know, for it is top of each rainbow,

Orange and yellow follow then, with blue and purple at the end.

In the middle is the green, the brightest one that can be seen,

She curves the shape down to the ground, and never can the end be found.

She dashes back, she dashes forth, racing up and down her course,

Bright will all the colours stay, whilst the clouds are damp and grey.

But as they sun dries up the rain, the colours will grow pale again,

And hidden will this joy become, until is brought another one…