Water

In bottles corked by a nursing mother Against thirst that would her baby bother; In large drums hoarded by ablution-enthused Muslim Who stories of its scarcity take with eyes unusually dim. A dry cleaner’s spiteful curse of a dry tap That wouldn’t help his trade, a hurting slap! The keyed-up state of a seeker of a mouthful of it, An insight into the whiplashes of not conserving a bit, As much so, the helplessness of a camel driver Belatedly aware of no oasis ahead nor the look-alike of a river. Water is the double assurance of life in a world unlived, To this end, a phenomenon that should be believed While it continues with a dignified silence Against foes teaching Rubbishy Science. Water is never by, parched throats disdained Rather ‘Archbishop’ by Adam’s Apple ordained; Always usefully engaged here And productively canalized there... But watch it, in a big one, you go down And you are sure to drown!