The rainbow shimmers pure and bright
With hidden hopes just round the bend
And pot of gold there at its end!
O would it not bring such delights?
We think by day and dream by night,
Forgetting current time and space
For what could be and giving chase.
Yet meanwhile, as we race and run,
Our time has passed, and life is done.
How have we spent our given grace?

Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 53: (CHASE) in the C rhyme line.