The End of the Rainbow

It's always either over or beyond,
but never underneath it or below.
Add adjectives galore to correspond,
evoking its magnificence and glow,
as if the rainbow isn't really there,
illusive as its cousin the horizon,
oblivious and wholly unaware
of efforts by the crotchety and wizened
to treat it as no more than a mirage,
a metaphor for all that isn't destined
and everything that isn't, a collage
assembled by romantics that go questing
in voyages that seek the rainbow's end.
All hopeless, but preferring to pretend.