Each sees the world but through his eyes
for one man's truth is another man's lies.
The rainbow rises with its bright bold band
mean different things from where you stand.

The colours symbolise our view
and thus reflect what we think is true.
From yellow through orange to red
bright colours when the rain has fled;
then green through blue to purple
shows the North Sea and the Med.

Red for the Roman soldier's plume as it waves in the wind's embrace
or the blood that Britons spilled on the land as they fought for their living space.
Orange is the sun's warm kiss as it sinks at the end of day
or the slave-built terracotta roofs that are made of Roman clay.
Yellow is the legion's eagle that sits on the pole on high
or the blistering, beating, burning sun, that shines up high in the sky.

Green is the flowing, shifting sea of ripening, waving grain
or malachite coloured water, that leaves your hands with a stain.

Blue is the crashing, thrashing waves as the sea gave throat and roared
or the colour of the long dead Brit whose body’s been ignored.

Purple is the heathery ling that grows upon the heath
or the symbol of Imperial Rome, the grasping greedy thief.

So look at the Rainbow rising and see your dearest dream
but be careful what the colours say: they are not quite what they seem.
The colours of a rainbow stand bright against the sky,
and we see it rising up above but it never tells us why.
How do we grasp a rainbow? To what does it point the way?
A potent portent of glittering good? Or fell, ill-favoured, fey?

So look at the Rainbow rising and see your dearest dream
but be careful what the colours say
they are not quite
... what
...they
...seem.