I heard there were large pots of gold
At the end of every rainbow
I went searching for the gold pots
Not once stopping to stand and stare
At the lovely hues of rain’s bow
I cared not for red or orange
Nor for yellow nor green nor blue
The violet and indigo
I just ignored and let them go
Golden dreams filled my entire mind
Spring just sprung unnoticed and waned
Summer sun’s glow could hardly match
The glitter and glory of gold
Autumn’s leaves did I behind leave
The winter of my life has come
The pot of gold has now been found
But it can’t buy back those lost hues
Seasons come just but only once
In one’s lifetime and go away
What ‘s lost has been lost forever
Journeys end in destinations
Destinations never bring back
All the missed joys of the journey
This poem has been posted for Jingle poetry - Poetry Potluck - Color, Spring and Rainbow.

What a resplendent poem! Really loved the flow and the subtle philosophical message.Its thought provoking.
ReplyDeleteYou have let the reader ponder about the resplendant joys he becomes blind to when they are at his disposal,when he is drowned in the intricate web of avarice. Later when he finds his life in gray humdrum , there is nothing he can do to get those joys back. You have conveyed the messaged beautifully.
Wow, how poignant...!!! N sadly true.
ReplyDeleteVery nice poem and so much truth in it.
ReplyDeletevery poetic.
ReplyDeletelovely flow.
A++
Thanks a lot, dvirada, Shilpa, Gigi and Jingle.
ReplyDeleteAn important lesson. Lovely poem
ReplyDeleteHi this is abhirup here. I run a business blog www.ideasmakemarket.com. I would be interested to post some articles from you with full credits. If you like the idea drop me a mail at ideasmakemarket@gmail.com
ReplyDeletethen it is time to make new memories!
ReplyDeletenew hues.
:)
Rainbows are a continuation of the first storm. The pot is man made.
ReplyDeleteYou now know you can sit back and enjoy it with someone.
Nicely written
Genebrother
Thanks for your lovely comments, Genebrother,lunawitch1tch15 and mindlovesmystery. Shall mail you, guest author.
ReplyDeleteSuch a wonderful lesson in this poem. Every moment is gold.
ReplyDeleteIts a good reminder how lost hues can never be gained back and we all should treasure each single minute of our life.
ReplyDeletenice...so much to be said of appreciating the journey...the pot of gold is not where its found for our destinations are often squandered...
ReplyDeletelots of truth in your write...and who wants a pot of gold anyway when there's the rainbow to ride on...
ReplyDelete"The pot of gold has now been found
ReplyDeleteBut it can’t buy back those lost hues"
Such an important message you convey in order to one day avoid the pangs of regret.
Wonderful how the colors and seasons take you through a lifetime. Ignoring the joy of the day is not unusual in a lifetime, when plodding through is what we do but it is important to experience the now and not wait until it's too late. Great write. Gay
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot for yoour appreciative comments, Radhika, Brian Miller, Claudia, dustus and Beachanny.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Victoria. Glad you liked the lesson.
ReplyDeleteSplendid! Splendid!
ReplyDeleteAnd also, this blog template suits this poem admirably.
Thanks Beachanny, dustus, Claudia, Brian, Radhika and Victoria.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this piece, how you remind one to take full advantage of the present as we don't get to repeat any moments in this life. Very inspiring.
ReplyDeleteYou might like to see my blog if you like poetry and more inspiration, I do it all for free and aid fellow poets in their writing endeavors!
http://www.the-writers-cafe.blogspot.com/
Thanks, Stacy. Checked out your site. Nice one. Shall be visiting regularly.
ReplyDeleteLove the idea and the way you portrayed it. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot, Shail.
ReplyDeletesplendid poem. just splendid. i am the lucky one who soaked its beauty, never heard of the story of gold pot :) before i started to blog.
ReplyDeletethank god!
Thanks, Trisha. Good to know.
ReplyDeleteThat was one profound poem. Loved the flow. btw, why The Fool?
ReplyDeleteThanks zephyr. I beleive Fools think themselves to be wisemen while wisemen know themselves to be Fools. Hope you get the drift.
ReplyDeletelovely poem...
ReplyDelete:)
Thanks, Sowmya.
ReplyDelete