A Pot of Gold

At the end
of every rainbow
there is
a pot of gold.
When I was
a child that was
the story I was told.
A childs
wide eyes
cannot hide surprise.
After every
rain shower
I would search the skies.
Praying that one
might soon appear.
I would run outside
before it disappeared.
I never
in my quest,
but I tried hard
to pass the test.
Pots of gold
do not exist
but for a child
the search was bliss.

photography of rainbow during cloudy sky
Photo by Alex on Pexels.com

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