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The Fog Warning, by Winslow Homer
Robert L. Martin

Overture to a Rainbow

Black clouds rolling in and through
Tympanis pounding in a witch’s brew
 
Tempest racing in the northern sky
Flocks of trumpets on the fly
 
Hell is forming on the blackened sea
Cymbals crashing as the seagulls flee
 
Heaven’s taken over as the devil sings
Blood is dripping from the cello strings
 
Waves are reaching to the firmament
Satan’s legacy is enshrined in cement
 
Broken ships being tossed in the storm
Piccolos screaming from the tempest born
 
Getting tired as the muscles grow weary
Softened by violins of velvet and teary
 
An overture to the blackened sky turned blue
A prelude in form as the melody holds true
 
Reaching to the sky to the upward rainbow
Covered in sweat from the tempest blow
 
Riding on the back of the downward arch
Then circling back up in a majestic march
 
A sweet caressing of its willowy body
Of violins playing a graceful rhapsody
 
An overture to a rainbow in the azure sky
And the departure of the tempest on the fly
 
Rising up into the sphere of the heavens
To live and die in its symphonic chasms

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