She's not the end of my rainbow
she's its beginning-
I am blinded by her colors-

her red, crimson, blood-red lips
which promise fire and burn
into me with the furious fury of red river flows
she gives in her passion eddies.

Her cheeks glow with that same tint
and floating high her aureola gleams
above violet eyes which stream
out and into deep my soul-
where our Rainbow Yellow lives.

Joy is surely the color yellow;
we are joined-participled,
framed by her tresses of similar hue.

Her orange is mellow light
and plunges down her dappled nape
to her nipples making them
orange-erect and wanting.

Her body blood at center now
is violet and indigo;
blood flow now beneath her skin
glows with these;
two hues blending to announce
the purple promises she makes
with her body-scape
arched high
rainbow-shaped
making our colors blend;
and now the semi-circle is reversed
to allow me into her deeper hues.

Outside the trees display green;
inside our rainbows sing
announcing
yet another new beginning.

I catch me then a rainbow each day,
marvel at it
lying in my bed
translucent.

Lonnie Hicks

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-rainbow-8/