A rainbow arcs across the sky,
Colours vivid, reaching high.
Richard Of York, a name we hear,
In battles fought with mortal fear.

Red as the blood of sacrifice,
Orange with fire, without a price.
Yellow as the sun’s warm light,
Green, the earth, in springtime’s sight.
Blue as the sea, calm and deep,
Indigo, twilight's gentle sweep.
Violet, the night’s serene embrace,
Each hue, a promise of God’s grace.

Richard of York gave battle in vain,
His name in history to remain.
A spectrum bright, from red to end,
In rainbow’s arc, a message penned.

God’s covenant with man was sealed,
In rainbows after storms revealed.
His promises, a hope profound,
In heaven’s bow, their truth is found.

For every tear and every storm,
A promise, bright and true, is born.
In rainbows’ glow, we see His love,
A gift bestowed from high above.

Richard’s tale, though filled with strife,
Reminds us of the colours’ life.
In every battle, joy or pain,
A rainbow follows every rain.

So, look up when the storm has passed,
And find in rainbows, hope at last.
Richard of York, though battles fought,
In heaven’s bow, a lesson sought.